


Judging Fish

by BrokenBones (Hikarinimichitasora)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikarinimichitasora/pseuds/BrokenBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everybody is a genius. But, if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it’ll spend its whole life believing that it is stupid.” – Albert Einstein</p><p>Jim Kirk is nervous about starting in a new school, especially as a Second-in-Department. His nerves aren't soothed by the fact that his department seems to be made of an army of geniuses in their fields. While he's stressing about his own lessons, how to make his Department Head Spock like him enough to take his suggestions on board, and how the hell to get the school board to agree to paint the school corridors something other than grey, he meets Biology Teacher Leonard McCoy. The doctor is gruff, has given up on teaching but Jim sees a brilliance in him he can't describe. He makes it his personal mission to help McCoy, without realizing he's falling in love at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the Faculty Mr Kirk

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to apologise for inaccuracies. I know the UK education system, and have no IDEA about American ones. I am trying to keep things as vague as possible because of that but it might be a bit hazy in places or there might be things that are downright inaccurate. For that I apologise profusely.
> 
> In any case, this is the first chapter of the Teacher!AU 'Judging Fish'. I hope you enjoy it.

Jim tapped his hands against the steering wheel of the car, looking at the building in front of him nervously. The first day at a new school always got to him. Every school was different, different paper work, different systems, different kids, different staffroom dynamics. He had never encountered one that had been similar to another. It wasn’t that he was _scared_ , although maybe he was a little. It was just that he needed to make a good first impression.

He was aware that outsourcing for a Second-in-Department and Teaching and Learning Co-Ordinator was practically unheard of, that he was waltzing into a job that someone might have been working exceptionally hard for. He had to come across as competent from the get go, and hopefully friendly.

He didn’t feel he had to prove his credentials. Those spoke for themselves. His record was prestigious and most did a double-take when they saw his age. Old enough to have built a career, but still considered young by most in the profession seeing as he was only just on the wrong side of thirty. Yet he’d still achieved more in his short time than others would in their career.

He sighed and knew that he had to get out of the car. He opened the door to the stupid old thing that he was driving these days for lack of anything better, and got to his feet. The feel of mid-August was still in the air, the Georgia heat still prickling against his skin and down his back. He knew his suit was going to be driving him nuts by lunch time, but he still guessed he had to wear a tie, at least for now.

As he stepped across the car park, he tried not to feel too nervous. Enterprise High School was… well. It had seen better days. The building itself desperately needed work doing to it, and there were signs that the place had been vandalised over the summer by the local kids. Still, that wasn’t too much to worry about. So, the school wasn’t a suburban dream, he’d known that when he applied.

Stepping into reception he was glad that the receptionist was there, smiling at him with a large, bright smile. Her staff pass read ‘Janice Rand’ and he returned her smile, changing his briefcase from his dominant hand to offer it to her.

“James Kirk, er, Jim? I was told to start today?” he said, hoping he didn’t sound like a moron. She smiled broadly and shook his hand, blue eyes twinkling.

“Welcome to Enterprise High, Mr Kirk. I’m Janice,” she said, probably unnecessarily. “Why don’t you sign in to that book there for now, and then we’ll get you sorted with a staff badge and all those things in a moment.”

Jim took the pen he was offered, filling out the relevant boxes to let people know he was onsite and glancing around as he did so. The school’s colour scheme was a little drab, grey appeared to be everywhere. Very non-distracting, Jim supposed, but hardly something that would enthuse young people. He put the pen down, noticing that Janice was watching him avidly.

“Well then. If you want to follow me, I’ll take you to the Science Office. Mr Spock, the Faculty Head, has been waiting for you,” she said. Jim felt the nerves in his stomach increasing massively. He was about to meet his boss and although he’d met Spock, briefly, at interview, he’d not had the chance to strike up a conversation. In fact he’d got the distinct impression that Spock disliked him.

The corridors leading to the Science Department smelled of wet paint and plaster. Jim noticed that the walls had been freshly painted, although all either depressing white or grey as cold and impersonal as the front of school. There were a few displays, here and there, of student’s work. Bright splashes of colour that were all too soon lost in the overwhelmingly depressing atmosphere.

“Who picked out the colour scheme?” Jim asked. Janice turned to him, flicking her blond hair over her shoulder in a way that she must have thought was attractive but just seemed very rehearsed.

“Oh, the school board pretty much dictate everything. Pike tried to talk them into having something else but they maintained that the school colour was _silver_ so everything should be that horrible grey colour. Soul destroying in a way…” she said, shrugging, her bright smile juxtaposed against her words. Jim guessed he was going to have his work cut out if he was going to make any of the changes he was hired to bring about.

She took him up a flight of stairs and Jim purposefully didn’t look at her behind as she did so. He saw her glance back once, but pretended to be taking in one of the displays and didn’t make eye contact.

She drew to a stop outside the science office and rapped smartly on the door. Jim shuffled a little nervously behind her, adjusting his tie slightly, before the door opened. It revealed Mr Spock, tall, dark, incredibly handsome and almost certainly looking at Jim like he _might_ just be a rabid dog off the street. Jim cleared his throat and held out his hand.

“Jim Kirk. We met at interview,” he said, smiling as brightly as he could. Janice was beaming at him. Mr Spock just stared at him for a long moment.

“Mr Spock doesn’t touch people,” Janice chirped up and Jim felt like an idiot. He let his hand drop, forcing the smile back on his face. “Oh! I’ll go and get your staff pass for you Mr Kirk!”

Jim watched her go, wondering if Mr Spock was going to leave him stood in the hallway. He didn’t though, stepping aside to reveal the Science Office beyond. There aren’t any desks in there, which Jim finds surprising. Instead there is a single large table in the middle, a coffee machine in the corner, a laptop charging station and a noticeboard full of rather uninspiring pictures of various scientific discoveries. All seemed to be a few years old. He took a seat, guessing that Spock probably wasn’t going to offer him one if he waited, and put his briefcase on the desk.

“I did not receive a read receipt from the emails I sent you containing the schemes of work or curriculum planning, Mr Kirk?” Spock said, pouring Jim coffee before taking one himself. He sat down opposite Jim and stared at him. It was rather like being stared down by a predator and Jim shifted a little in his seat.

“I looked over them and planned my lessons for the start of term accordingly. I was hoping that there will be a chance to talk to you about it before the term starts however-“Jim began but at that moment the door opened in a cacophony of noise and laughter.

“And then Pasha just looked at him, and you can just imagine it right, like a puppy dog facing down a bear or something. But he says this threat in Russian and god, he could have been saying _anything_ and it would have sounded threatening. This guy just pooped his pants and ran. We were calling him Baby Odessa for the rest of the trip!”

Jim got to his feet just as the man finished his story. The other spent a few moments just looking at him, then at Spock, before he smiled and held out his hand.

“You must be Jim, right? Hikaru Sulu, Biology. I look forward to working with you!” he said, shaking Jim’s hand. Jim smiled in return and turned to the person with him. She was stunningly beautiful, her dark skin perfect in the way he thought was only possible in magazines. She smiled with only half her mouth, as though she knew everything that was going through his mind at that moment and didn’t appreciate any of it.

“Uhura. Languages,” she said, holding out her hand for Jim to shake as well. He took it, making sure to grip it just as he would a man’s. She seemed to appreciate it a little as her smile widened a little.

“I’m going to need to know your last name if you want me to be able to refer to you in front of the kids,” he said. Sulu’s eyebrows rose a little and he looked at Uhura to see her reaction. Jim guessed he was about to strike out but he wasn’t too fussed. He wasn’t serious about flirting and he didn’t want people to believe that he was here just to destroy their precious department.

“That is my last name,” she said. Sulu mimed pouring water onto a burn but Jim just laughed good-naturedly.

“Well Miss Uhura, it’s an honour to meet you anyway,” he said, chuckling. Uhura inclined her head gracefully and went to help herself to the coffee pot.

“This office is a communal office for everyone on this floor normally. I’m one floor above, but I like spending time with the Doctor and a few others on this floor so I’ll be around quite a bit. I’m sure you’ll pick up my first name eventually, Mr Kirk, when you’ve _earned_ it,” she said as she sipped the coffee and went to sit down next to Spock. The other looked at her out of the corner of his eye and didn’t comment on any of it.

“Pasha got held up in some traffic on the way in. He’s going to be late for briefing. Doc’s being his usual self as expected. Oh and Scotty needs dragging out of the supply cupboards I think. He’s convinced someone stole his scissors over the summer and is trying to track down the new set,” Sulu said, sitting down next to Jim. Jim was trying to take in names and put them to faces off the website, but it was difficult. He put his briefcase on the floor and tried not to take too much of the content in, but more of the feel.

Uhura and Sulu chatted, with Spock interjecting occasionally, and Jim got the sense they understood each other well. He could see there were strong bonds here already, ones that should have shown through in the department statistics. The fact that they didn’t was why he was here, but he’d always thought that staff morale was one of the most important things in getting students their grades.

Soon the room was full of tired looking, but well-dressed teachers. ‘Pasha’ turned out to be Pavel Chekov, a genius in the realms of physics who had gone into teaching instead of a guaranteed illustrious career in research. Montgomery Scott was a physicist by trade who had ended up teaching chemistry at the high school due to there being a shortage and him having an interest in how to make various things go boom. It didn’t take long before the three of them were having a rather heated debate and then Spock suddenly stood up.

The briefing was short and sweet. It briefly welcomed Jim to the department, before Spock started handing out paper work, copies of detention papers, explaining changes from the year before and new ways to write reports. They had three days before term started to get used to all the differences. Jim felt like it would take three months to take it all on board but refrained from commenting.

There was one empty seat with papers piled onto it. Chekov had been putting one there and when Spock dismissed them all, he took the spare pile and disappeared down the hall with it. The others continued to talk, Jim feeling increasingly antsy as they did. Eventually it was Uhura who noticed his restlessness and took pity on him.

“Want me to show you to your classroom? You can look over all the paper work and things,” she suggested. Jim was on his feet before he’d even verbalised what a good idea it was. She smiled, indulgently like one would at a child, before getting to her feet as well.

The classrooms on the corridor were all an improvement on the dreary décor of the school at least. Uhura showed him Sulu’s classroom, which had bright displays showing the workings of photosynthesis along one wall and along the back a collection of sunflowers, their faces turned towards the windows. Chekov’s had a mobile hanging from the ceiling with a replica of the solar system. Spock’s was… a little less personal, but had various helpful posters explaining chemical reactions. Jim finally found his room second to last on the corridor.

The sign on the front bore the mark of the last teacher before him, the plastic having faded around the stickers where their name had been. The new lettering didn’t quite cover it, but still, it helpfully said his name and subject and that was more important than having a new door plaque he supposed.

He opened the door to see a room that had clearly been completely gutted, and obviously in a hurry. Displays had been ripped from the walls, but years of staples remained in the boards. Desks had been re-varnished but still bore the carvings deep into them of ‘CC loves JR 4eva’. There was an archaic computer in the corner and paint was peeling off the door to the store cupboard.

“Well, I guess this is home,” Jim said, keeping his tone neutral. Uhura’s smile dropped slightly as she looked around.

“If you want I can give you a hand putting up some backing paper or something…?” she offered. Jim put his things down on his desk. It wobbled. One of the legs was apparently shorter than the others. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

“If you don’t mind…?” he replied. Uhura made a face that said she did but was going to go through with it anyway.

By lunch time they had managed to cover most of Jim’s boards with black backing paper and were sat cutting out silver shapes that would, Jim hoped, become a decent representation of how electrical current worked.

Uhura chatted about various things, her experiences in Europe when she’d been travelling, who to watch out for in the school, a few of the things that Jim should know about dealing with the students. Jim absorbed as much as he could, sharing details of his own where it was appropriate.

“You did some teaching in Finland?” Uhura had sounded incredulous but Jim just shrugged.

“If you want to know about something, go to the best place to learn,” he replied. She spent half an hour bugging him for words in Finnish from that point and Jim struggled to recall words beyond ‘beer’, ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

“You’re full of surprises, Jim Kirk,” she said when she stood up to leave. Jim just smiled and shook his head.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

* * *

 

Jim got into his car at the end of the day and sank into his seat. He felt too drained to even put the keys into the ignition but he knew that he was going to have to eventually or he’d hit rush hour traffic and end up taking an hour to get back to his place.

He managed to pull out of the car park without dinging someone else’s car, which he considered a victory at that point and managed to make it home within an acceptable amount of time.

Opening the door he groaned at the sight that greeted him. He hadn’t been especially proactive with unpacking and most of his things were still in boxes in the hallway. He slung his keys on top of a box and dragged himself into the kitchen.

There was nothing in his fridge except for a single beer and a block of cheese that he had bought to make himself grilled cheese in the morning. He snagged the beer and returned to his lounge.

He dug around in boxes until he found what he was looking for. He reverently pulled the record deck out of its bubble wrap, setting it on the counter that he’d bought especially to house it. It took a while to set it up, correcting the weights and attaching the speakers. He then went on the hunt for his records.

He found them in his bathroom of all places, and began to rifle through them. He finally found a decent enough vinyl, pulling it from the selection and heading back to the lounge. There was a crackle as  he set the pin down, then the soft, deep tones of Nina Simone warmed the apartment.

He collapsed onto his couch, swigging from his beer and staring at the bare wall in front of him.

God, he had his work cut out for him.

* * *

 

Jim had spent the previous day acclimatizing. He had finished his displays, finished labelling his books and making sure everything was where he wanted it, hunted down textbooks and packets of pens and stationary. The classroom wasn’t perfect, but it felt like a space he could teach in at least.

It was only when Uhura came down to meet him to take him to lunch on the final day before term started that Jim realised there was one member of staff he hadn’t met yet and that was his neighbour. He saw the door was slightly ajar and turned to Uhura.

“Who’s classroom is that?” he asked. Uhura looked a little uncomfortable and shrugged a little.

“Doctor McCoy’s. He teaches Biology and is, well, kind of grumpy. Don’t get me wrong, he’s got a heart of gold it’s just… He’s not been the same since his divorce,” she said softly. Jim raised his eyebrows. He was second in department, he should have been introduced to everyone if he was going to be their boss. It was bad form to start term without having _met_ a member of staff.

“Go on ahead. I better introduce myself,” he said. Uhura looked hesitant for a moment before she nodded and walked off, her heels clicking on the floor. Jim spent a moment appreciating her figure as she walked away before he turned back to the task at hand.

Jim peered through the door. The classroom itself was dark, the curtains having been drawn tightly against anything so cheerful as sunlight. Every space was methodically taken up by something, though it wasn’t anything of note. Textbooks lined back benches, the shelves had more textbooks, mostly on human biology, or else there were pupil’s notebooks in drab brown boxes. Even the posters on the walls looked like they’d seen better days, dog-eared and slightly yellowed with age.

It was the man at the front of the classroom who drew Jim’s attention though. His head had shot up when he heard the door open, dark eyes narrowed and clearly ready to say something dismissive. He seemed to be brought up short by seeing Jim there though.

The man had dark hair, cut in a style that suggested that he had perhaps once followed fashion and now could no longer be bothered but kept going back for the same cut. He had a good build, broad and strong looking, but the hands that were shuffling papers on his desk looked elegant and long fingered. He was dressed simply, a black suit, black tie, white shirt, the clothes a man who has one suit for church, funerals and work would wear.

“I hope I’m not intruding. Just wanted to introduce myself. I’m the new Second-in-Department. Jim’s the name. Jim Kirk,” he said, stepping inside. The man rose to his feet and so Jim traversed the classroom to introduce himself. The tiles were slightly uneven, meaning he had to watch his feet as he stepped.

Then suddenly the man was before him and Jim could see his eyes weren’t just dark, but hazel flecked with green. He was being offered a hand and he quickly took it, his palm feeling sweaty with sudden nerves.

“Leonard McCoy, biology,” the other man replied. Jim nodded, he’d already known that. He glanced around the classroom again, feeling awkward. Just as he was about to start some small talk about something like the weather, he saw it. In the corner, virtually hidden away behind a stack of books, was a full human skeleton. Jim hadn’t seen one like that inside a classroom in years.

“Is that real?” he asked, stepping away from McCoy to look at it in more detail. McCoy huffed.

“You think we’d have a real human skeleton in a _school_ , kid?” he replied gruffly. Jim turned round, grinning and holding up the skeleton’s hand, making it wave.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that I’d have discovered in a classroom,” he replied. McCoy raised his eyebrow and said nothing. Jim began to trace up the white, smooth plastic (at least he hoped McCoy wasn’t lying and it _was_ plastic).

“If you’d stop molesting my bones, I have work to do,” McCoy said. Jim chuckled and shook his head slightly, dropping his hand and leaning back against the desk.

“Want to get some lunch?” he asked. McCoy scowled at him and glanced at the clock. It read 4:47 and he saw McCoy scowl at it.

“That darn clock. Always showing the wrong time!” he snapped, as though verbally abusing it would help. Jim chuckled and grabbed a chair. He hopped onto it, snagging the clock off the wall and setting it to read the correct time of midday instead. McCoy watched him warily the entire time.

“See, lunch time. What do you say, Bones? Let’s go get something to eat,” Jim pressed as he hopped back down off the chair. He wasn’t sure whether the nickname would stick. The way that McCoy’s eye twitched at its use made Jim want to keep using it. He clapped the other on the shoulder.

“I brought lunch from home,” McCoy said, gesturing to a tupperware container on his desk. Jim shrugged and put the chair back where he’d found it. McCoy was watching his every move like he was a dangerous animal and Jim didn’t know whether or not to be flattered.

“Hey, I just wanted to drop in and say hi. If you’re really busy or something, we don’t have to talk,” he said, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. He could see the guilt pass over the other’s face and knew that he’d won.

“I guess I can eat with you,” McCoy conceded. Jim smiled brightly and decided to forego getting food from the cafeteria, choosing instead to pull up a chair to McCoy’s desk and sit down, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he did.

“So then, Bones, why don’t you tell me all about your time at Enterprise High School?”

* * *

 

McCoy had painted a rather colourful picture that Jim was sure 80% of which was exaggeration. Even so, he had recognised something in the other. There was a hint of brilliance there, a hint of something beyond the normal. He’d seen it in all the staff, but their genius was stamped on their classrooms, in the resources they had somewhat shyly shown Jim, in the way they talked in morning briefings about what they had planned for the year ahead.

With Bones it was in all the things he’d tried over the years. Tried. All past tense. He spoke about various lessons he’d done, things he’d tried, but when Jim tried to get him to talk about the future? Bones somehow always managed to turn the question back on Jim to avoid it. It was like the man saw no path towards improvement and it got Jim curious as to what had happened.

Uhura had mentioned a divorce, and if anything could make it difficult for a man to continue such a high-stress job as teaching, it was a troubled personal life.

Of course, none of this had anything to do with the fact that McCoy was a very attractive man. Jim could appreciate that the other was handsome, that he was fit in a way that lead to strength and power, rather than agility or tone. He had long-fingered hands and a full mouth that made Jim wonder how many teenage girls and boys had imagined _Doctor_ McCoy outside of the workplace.

Still, eye candy aside, Jim knew that he was going to have to try to get through to Bones probably more than he was going to have to try to grow on Spock. The other would respect his academic achievements, his sound strategies backed by research, but McCoy… With McCoy he was going to have to inspire. To lead by example and hope that McCoy got caught up in the tide.

He couldn’t deny, he was looking forward to it.

That night when Jim got home, he set his record player going, swaying to the sound of Jimi Hendrix as he unpacked box after box, then set is alarm for 6am before passing out.

He dreamed of Georgia accents, being late for school, and the way that Uhura’s skirt rippled when she walked.


	2. Balloons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What can I say, Bones? I’m an asshole unless I’m sweetened appropriately,” Jim replied, waggling his eyebrows a little. McCoy just raised an eyebrow though Jim thought he detected a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth.

The bell went.

Jim sat at the front of his classroom, nervously checking over the register one more time. There were at least three names he was sure weren’t even names but just random combinations of letters and a further five he wasn’t even sure he could pronounce. He sounded them out in his head, trying to think of an easy way to pronounce them, not wanting to get them wrong straight away but in the end he knew that no matter what he did, he was most likely going to get them wrong.

The first student filtered in. They eyed him warily, like a deer eyeing up a predator, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room. Jim tried his best to smile reassuringly. The student threw her bag on her desk and gave him a smile back that didn’t meet her eyes.

“Hi. I’m Mr Kirk. Your new homeroom teacher,” he said, trying to muster some cheer. She blinked slowly at him.

“Kelly,” she replied. Jim glanced down at the register. There wasn’t even a Kelly on there.

“Um… Kelly? Are you sure you’re in the right class?” he asked, trying to remain friendly. The girl plopped down into her chair, adjusting her jacket on her shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said and that was that. Jim sat back and waited for the class to fill up. Being allowed to sit where they wanted meant that people naturally filtered into their friendship groups. Jim’s eyes devoured it all.

The ‘Cool’ kids who were trying too hard. The ‘Cool’ kids who just were naturally popular. The ‘Bad’ kids who were _definitely_ trying too hard. The ‘Hyperactive’ kids who were hopefully just excited to see their friends again after the summer. The ‘Quiet’ kids who had sat there, staring blankly at the front, looking rather terrified. The ‘Nerdy’ kids who were already buried in books or showing each other comic books under the table.

Well, that was just stupid.

According to the timetable for the day, they were going to be stuck together for an hour while the Principal greeted the freshmen and that left Jim with time to fill. He tapped his fingers against the DVD case on his desk, wondering if this was going to work as well as he thought it was.

“That seems like everyone,” he said, standing up. Of course, no one paid attention to him. A few eyes flickered over to him as students carried on talking and he smiled as his nerves dissipated. Some things changed, but children were always children.

“Alright then…” he muttered, walking to the front of the room and putting his hands in his pockets. He stood in front of the whiteboard and drew a deep breath.

“I only ask for quiet once. If you can’t handle that, you can spend the morning stood outside my classroom in the corridor and come back at the end of the day to do homeroom again,” he said, projecting his voice so that he knew everyone in the room heard it. The room quietened, not immediately, but fast enough that Jim couldn’t pinpoint exactly who spoke last.

“Good. I’m Mr Kirk. I’m a physics teacher and your new homeroom teacher. I’m aware that last year you had a series of supply teachers,” Jim introduced himself, looking around the tired, bored looking faces in front of him. _Nice to see you all so early in the morning too._

“Well, I’m here for the foreseeable future. At least until you graduate in any case, so let’s try to get along and not piss each other off,” he said, shrugging a little. A few students at the back giggled in a _he said a bad word_ way that Jim had been hoping for. A bit of tension leaked out of the room. A few students were still trying to get the measure of him though, obviously aware of the game he was playing.

“Now I’ve got a list of names here that I can’t pronounce and a load of paper that I’ve been told you have to sign or eat or stick somewhere I couldn’t care to question where. So how about we get all the admin out of the way quickly and then we watch one of my favourite films while I get to know you guys?”

None of the students said a word and Jim sagged a little. Oh well, he knew that their united hatred of ‘Stand By Me’ would no doubt join them together in a collective ‘I don’t get it this film is so weird our homeroom teacher is so weird’ soon enough.

* * *

 

 The morning passed so quickly that Jim felt like he’d barely blinked before it was lunchtime. He stretched, shuffling the paper on his desk and lamenting that there was so much of it already. So many forms and spare worksheets and even worse, the previous year’s assessments. He wasn’t even going to touch those until tomorrow.

He grabbed his lunch from his desk drawer, an apple and a rather wilted looking salad that probably tasted alright still even if the texture was slightly mushy. He’d forgotten about the Georgia heat. He put the Tupperware container under his arm and started eating the apple as he left his room, locking it behind him.

The science office was empty and Jim frowned. Did everyone work through their lunch here? Well, that was going to have to change. He sat down, finishing his apple and picking at the core for a few moments before he threw it into the bin from where he was sat, watching it arc through the air and hit the wastepaper inside with a satisfying crumpling sound.

He poked at his salad. It was slimy, slightly soggy and generally unsatisfying. If it weren’t for the fact that he felt he needed to after his most recent bout of fast food after moving, he would have thrown it and taken his chances at the cafeteria instead. He finally forced down the last mouthful and stared morosely around the room.

Gee, the party in here was really lively.

He threw the Tupperware box into the small sink and pulled a mug out of the cupboard to make himself a coffee, figuring he might as well go back to his room. He paused though, as he removed it, noticing that there was a mug from Ole Miss there. His cast his mind back to the website, the qualifications of everyone he worked with running through his mind.

McCoy.

He snagged the cup and poured out a second cup of coffee. He dumped enough sugar in his to give a nutritionist a heart attack. He then took both of them down the hall, walking straight passed his door and into the next room. He opened it precariously, watching as small drops of coffee dripped down the side of his glass as he tried to use his elbow on the door handle.

The door suddenly opened.

“What in blazes are you doing?”

Jim smiled, seeing McCoy’s grouchy face. The other’s top button was undone, his tie pulled down a little. The room felt stuffy, like McCoy couldn’t be bothered to open the windows so had just started to undress himself instead. Jim held up the two mugs.

“How did you even know that was mine?” McCoy asked, taking the mug from him and stepping aside so that Jim could walk in. He did so, sitting down in one of the student’s chairs opposite McCoy’s desk. He sipped his coffee, savouring the bittersweet taste of it.

“I can _smell_ the sugar in that from here. That’s not good for you, kid,” McCoy said, sitting down at his desk and putting his coffee to one side to cool slightly. Jim shrugged, sipping his again with a happy sigh.

“What can I say, Bones? I’m an asshole unless I’m sweetened appropriately,” Jim replied, waggling his eyebrows a little. McCoy just raised an eyebrow though Jim thought he detected a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth.

“So, why are you buttering me up by bringing me coffee to my classroom?” McCoy asked, turning so that he wasn’t looking into Jim’s eyes anymore. Jim watched as his hands skimmed over a pen before selecting a red one, picking up starting to scrawl all over what appeared to be a test paper.

“Are you marking exams already?” Jim asked, incredulously. There hadn’t been enough teaching hours, surely, to have already started giving students tests?

“You know the statistics. Kids take until late October, even November, to get back to the same stage academically as they were before the summer vacation,” McCoy grumbled. “I don’t trust the assessment scores from June to accurately predict where they are in September after they’ve spent a summer getting drunk in parking lots and vandalising public property.”

 _Educational theory mixed with a healthy bout of disdain for young people. Brilliant_.

“Tests on the first day back, Bones? Way to kill enthusiasm,” Jim said, though he smiled to disarm the barb. McCoy scrawled a comment in red ink that looked particularly vicious if the pen jabs were anything to go by.

“Yeah well, I haven’t got a single kid in detention yet, so that’s a first,” he replied. Jim chuckled.

“I’ve got eight,” he replied lightly. McCoy looked up then, his pen pausing halfway around circling one answer. His eyes registered disbelief.

“Eight,” he repeated blankly. Jim nodded, shrugging self-depreciatingly.

“Yep. They got a bit carried away with the balloons,” he replied.

“Balloons,” McCoy parroted. Jim raised his eyebrows, wondering if the other was just going to repeat everything back at him.

“Yeah. We were reviewing parts of an atom. Some of them got a bit carried away with them. You know how it is. Give a teenage boy two balloons and he’s going to shove them up his shirt and pretend to be the prettiest girl on the cheerleading squad,” he said. McCoy actually did smile then.

“You’re going to have to change the way you teach to fit in here. That might work in leafy suburbia but if you give the kids an inch here, they’re going to take a mile,” he said, as though he was dealing out words of great wisdom. Jim sipped his coffee, choosing his next words carefully.

“I’m going to do exactly the same thing tomorrow with a different class,” he said. McCoy put his pen down, sitting back in his chair and regarding Jim for a few moments. He reached for his coffee, picking it up and sipping it.

“You’re either an idiot or stubborn,” McCoy said after a few moments. Jim grinned.

“Why? Because I believe that these kids are as capable as the ones who live out Dunwoody way?” he asked, putting his mug down and regarding McCoy carefully. He could see that McCoy was reassessing him.

“That’s not the issue here. Of course they _deserve_ the same but it’s not one-size fits all. Even the best teaching needs adapting,” McCoy pressed. Jim leaned back in his chair.

“Oh. It was adapted, sure. I mean, I didn’t teach it the same as I did back in Finland, but by the end of that class, every child understood about protons and neutrons well enough that they were able to answer an exam question on it. And they had fun. Probably a little _too much_ fun, but I should have been clearer with my rules before laying out the task,” he said. It was _interesting_. He’d met characters who didn’t want to change before. Even the most progressive teachers got set in their ways and dismissed ideas easily when it felt like something that _they_ would never do.

But McCoy was something else. Jim could tell the other understood where Jim was coming from. It was almost like he was being deliberately obtuse to test him out.

It was a _challenge_.

“You’re something else, Kirk,” McCoy said, shaking his head. Jim laughed.

“Please, call me Jim,” he said, relaxing a little into his chair. “And I honestly think it was a god thing. You should come and watch the next lesson. Maybe you can offer me some pointers in how to control the kids better? The Bones way?” he suggested. McCoy rolled his eyes.

“If I call you Jim, will you drop that ridiculous nickname?” he asked. Jim noticed that he hadn’t agreed to come to watch the lesson, but he guessed the invitation was out there now.

“Never. You’re Bones now. Through and through,” he said, sipping his coffee. McCoy stared at him for a moment.

“You’re insufferable. How have you managed to climb so high so fast? You don’t seem like the brown-nosing type,” he said. Jim was about to respond when the bell went. He glanced up, sighing and realising he probably should leave. McCoy got to his feet as well, grabbing another pile of photocopied test papers that made Jim wince to look at.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, scooting out from behind the pupil desk and walking over to the door. “But if you change your mind about coming and giving me some tips, it’s just after lunch tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah maybe. Thanks for the coffee… Jim.”

* * *

 

“Uhura Uhura Uhura Uhura Uhura-“

“Stop it,” Uhura said, looking up from her computer screen. The students in the room had all turned to stare at him as he entered. Jim just smiled at them as he made his way to the desk and leaned his hip against it.

“Ever get the feeling you’re famous? You just walk into a room and everything stops,” he said cheerfully. The students nearby seemed to take that as a sign to continue what they were doing, turning back to the textbooks they were working with.

“You know, you’ve got the tense wrong there,” Jim said helpfully, pointing to one student’s work. Both Uhura and the student frowned at him. “Hey, I did some travelling in Spain,” he defended himself.

Uhura slipped out from behind her desk, going to check the student’s work. Her eyes glanced up to Jim when she noticed that he was right and she helped the student through the correction before turning back to Jim.

“What do you want, Mr Kirk? As you can see, I’m _busy_ right now,” she said. Jim beamed at her.

“Just a quick question actually. What’s your favourite food?” he asked. He was almost _certain_ that every student in the room was listening. Uhura rolled her eyes and sat down behind her desk.

“I’m not discussing this with you right now. If you insist on discussing pointless things, please wait until non-teaching hours,” she said firmly. Jim just grinned.

“Well, you see. I was thinking of starting a breakfast club, but if you’re not interested in the thought…” he trailed off. Uhura’s nails tapped against keys on the keyboard.

“I eat fruit for breakfast, Mr Kirk,” she said, her tone dismissive. Jim grinned and turned to leave. He was at the door when he heard Uhura clear her throat.

“But I think the others would prefer pastries. And we have vegetarians in the department so make sure it’s suitable,” she said. Jim turned to her and beamed, saluting her as he left the room.

And so the rumour mill began.

* * *

 

“That new teacher! Mr Kirk? He’s a bit, you know, weird isn’t he?”

“He’s hot!”

“What? Oh c’mon! He’s old enough to be your dad!”

“No way! He’s like twenty or something!”

“I heard he’s seeing Miss Uhura!”

“What?!”

“Yeah they were flirting in Hannah’s Spanish class!”

“No way! I don’t believe it!”

“Uh-huh. Though I think Miss Uhura can do better. That new guy’s kind of smarmy.”

“He’s allowed to be when he looks like that.”

“You just like blonde guys.”

“Yeah well, better than you, freakface.”

“I would be hurt, but that insult was so pathetic I’m not even sure which of us got burned.”

“Has anyone had him for lessons yet?”

“Yeah. Daequan had him this morning. Got a detention for trying to shove a balloon down his pants, the retard.”

“A balloon? Why was he even-“

“It’s _Daequan._ There doesn’t need to be a reason.”

“See, the boys here are so immature!”

“That doesn’t mean you should be mooning over Mr Kirk. You were bad enough with Doctor McCoy last year… That was embarrassing.”

“Oh shut up.”

* * *

 

“Mr Kirk, is there any particular reason why the staff office is filled with balloons?”

Jim looked up to see Spock stood somewhat awkwardly in the doorway. In his hand was a single red balloon. He looked completely and utterly bewildered. Jim smiled and got to his feet, glancing at the clock. It was less than five minutes until the end of the day and he was glad for it.

He’d put all the balloons that the kid had used in the office to try and cheer it up a bit, guessing that everyone would _need_ it after their first day. Spock didn’t look so much _cheered_ though as poleaxed.

“Yeah. The kids were using them today. Just thought I’d brighten up the place,” he said with a shrug. Spock stared at him for a moment, eyes unblinking. Jim fought the urge to squirm.

“Please refrain from doing so in future,” Spock said finally. “They pose a health and safety hazard.”

“Balloons do? Really?” Jim asked, folding his arms. Really, this was ridiculous. Why was everyone here so determined to squash all his fun. First McCoy, then initially Uhura, now Spock?

“Yes. If you-“ Spock was cut off by a whooping sound from down the corridor.

“Hikaru! You must look! Zere are balloons! Many many balloons! Is it a birthday? _Nyet_ , where is the cake?”

Jim laughed a little at Chekov’s excited shouting before the door to the office closed. A moment later the bell rang and the corridor filled with pupils. Spock seemed to realise he looked rather strange, standing around with a balloon in his hand.

“In future, do not decorate the office space, Mr Kirk,” he repeated over the excited noise of pupils. Jim nodded and watched Spock disappear into the crowd, fighting against the waves of students as he waded towards the office.

When he opened the door there was the distinct sound of laughter and a loud bang as whatever it was Chekov and Sulu were doing in there filtered through.

Jim closed his door, shutting out the noise until it died down a little. He walked to the other end of his classroom, looking out of the windows towards the staff parking lot. His room overlooked a particularly ugly fire escape as well.

_Beautiful view. Really, fantastic. I couldn’t imagine having a nicer classr-_

Jim frowned. The fire escape door opened. He was about to go tell off the stupid student who had opened it when he saw it was McCoy. The man slipped out, dashing down the fire escape and towards the parking lot. Jim glanced at the clock. It was barely three minutes after the bell.

_Someone wants to go home early and has the balls to actually duck out…_

He watched McCoy get into a beaten up looking car and pull out of the parking lot. It was slow going, competing against students who just wandered in the way of the car. Jim frowned slightly.

He resolved that he was going to solve the mystery that was Leonard McCoy.


	3. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Because you aren’t. I know you aren’t. I can see it in you. That ability to do well, to be a true genius at what you do and I’m going to make sure that you shine Bones. I think you’ve spent too long being the grumpy troll at the end of the corridor and it’s your turn to start to do something interesting that shows the rest of the department that Sulu isn’t the only teacher who is capable of pushing kids not just through their exams, but into truly enjoying the subject,” he said. McCoy’s expression was unreadable and Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the other thought of him right at that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jim sees some people teach and begins to realise where the problems lay with some, but some remain a mystery to him.

“Jim, can I have a word?”

It’s not what Jim wanted to hear when all he wanted to do was get in and do some photocopying. Christopher Pike looked immaculate, but then he didn’t have a teaching timetable to adhere to. His days of standing in a reprographics room, tiredly pulling out paper jams and watching as the minutes of his apparent break ticked by were over.

He was led into Pike’s office, the first time he had been since his interview. It seemed a comfortable enough space, a little sparse for Jim’s tastes though. He wasn’t offered a chair so therefore he didn’t sit. Instead Jim clasped his hands behind his back, hoping that this was going to be over quickly.

“I wanted you to know I’ve pulled you off timetable this morning. You’re not going to be teaching. At the senior management meeting last night we felt it was best if you were allowed some time, perhaps once a month, to observe other members of staff in the school,” Pike said without preamble. Jim tried not to let his displeasure show on his face. The first few weeks of school were so important for building bonds with classes and setting up the ground rules, being absent was _not_ okay.

“Sir, I appreciate the thought and I would certainly love to do it in the future-“

“That’s good-“

“Only it’s not really the time. I’m trying to get my classes on board with a new type of learning they aren’t used to-“

“It really isn’t a suggestion, you know-“

“Well it damn well should be!” Jim clamped his mouth shut after that. Pike wasn’t looking amused.

“You were hired to raise the standards of _teaching_ in this school, Kirk,” he said calmly. Jim tried not to let it show on his face that he felt that was bullshit. He was a _teacher_ , he couldn’t work miracles.

“Certainly, but how can I tell someone how to teach when I don’t have a clue about the kinds of kids they are teaching? How can I march into a classroom and _observe_ without understanding the context-“

Pike raised a hand and cut him off. Jim looked at the floor rather than at Pike. He knew he’d lost this one, much to his chagrin.

“You’ll see Uhura, Chekov and McCoy before lunch. Fourth period we’ll have a feedback session,” Pike said. Jim nodded and turned on his heel, stalking out of the office without saying anything further. He didn’t like this at all.

He went to his classroom and booted up his computer. He’d have to scrap every lesson he’d planned. There was no way a supply teacher would be able to deliver the lessons he’d imagined. Growling, he grabbed textbooks from the back of the room and started writing instructions on the whiteboard, lists of page numbers and mind-numbing work where students were expected to copy and complete tables from a textbook.

No challenge. No fun. Just words on paper. Page after page of written work.

He was using the end of the whiteboard marker to scratch his forehead as he read a bit more of the textbook, deciding if the activity within was enough to fill an hour, when he heard his door open. He was surprised to see it was McCoy.

“Mornin’,” Jim greeted. McCoy just gave him a look that said ‘it is not a good morning and fuck anyone who tries to tell me it is’.

“I’ve heard you’re observing me today,” he said, his tone difficult to read. Jim nodded, putting the textbook on his desk and giving McCoy his full attention.

“It’s not going to be a judgmental one. Just something Pike wants me to do really,” he said with a shrug. McCoy folded his arms. Jim knew there were some teachers who thrived under the pressure of an observation, who loved it, who requested it. Jim thought they were rather mad. Most who taught did not enjoy the thought of a fellow practitioner invading their space and telling them what they were doing wrong. And there was always _something_ that they were doing wrong.

Jim was used to being observed by others. It didn’t _bother_ him. He didn’t like it, but he knew it was necessary, especially if you were meant to be leading by example. Even so, he liked to have time to prepare, to put on something really amazing for someone to watch. Jim knew that not every lesson was something you wanted someone to form an opinion on your ability to teach from.

By the look McCoy was giving him, McCoy was not someone who enjoyed the thought of a spectator in his classroom.

“You going to be feeding back?” McCoy asked. Jim shook his head.

“To be honest, I want it to be as informal as possible. Just think of it like I’ve popped in to see a student and don’t change anything from what you’d normally do. Besides, you can always turn the tables on me if you’d like after lunch?” Jim reiterated his invitation from the previous day. McCoy looked sceptical and Jim didn’t blame him.

There was no such thing as someone being in your classroom ‘informally’. The bond between a class and its teacher was… something special and unique. Another body in the room often disrupted that. Not to mention that Jim was fairly sure that none of the lessons McCoy had planned were anything he wanted someone to see.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” Jim said finally. He looked into McCoy’s eyes, hoping he seemed sincere. McCoy’s expression was still set in a firm scowl, the only expression Jim had seen him wear pretty much. Even so, he realised that McCoy’s eyes were much more expressive. If he masked his emotions on his face, his eyes told the full story. McCoy was nervous.

Jim didn’t know what he was doing until he’d crossed the space between his whiteboard and the door and put his hand against McCoy’s arm.

“Honestly, you’re going to be fine. Say, do you want to help me get breakfast stuff out of the car? I brought in some stuff for everyone before briefing. We can get coffee afterwards,” Jim offered. McCoy relaxed minutely and stepped out of Jim’s touch in order to step out of the door with a nod.

McCoy led the way to the parking lot and Jim tried not to be unnerved by the silence. He guessed that McCoy hadn’t had his coffee this morning yet and that probably was at least some of it. It being 7am probably wasn’t helping either.

They got outside to his car. Jim walked over to it, putting the key into the door to open it. She was old, a classic, and didn’t have something as crass as an automatic unlocking system. He was never going to get her upgraded to one either. There was something satisfying about watching the buttons on the doors come up.

“Chevrolet Stingray… Pre-80s right?” McCoy asked. Jim looked up and saw McCoy reverently running a hand over her hood. His hands were really long and elegantly fingered.

“1978,” Jim replied, opening the door and reaching into the passenger’s seat for the bags of pastries. Enough to feed not only his own department, but probably the cleaning staff who tidied their classrooms as well.

“She’s well-cared for,” McCoy said, taking one of the brown paper bags from Jim’s hand. Jim smiled.

“My dad had one back in Iowa,” he explained, straightening and shutting the door with his hip as he juggled the grocery bag in his arm. “But when he died, it sat gathering dust in the garage. One day my mom’s new husband said he was going to sell it so just to spite him I took it out of the garage and road it clear across Riverside. Drove it off a cliff.”

McCoy’s mouth was open. Jim couldn’t help but grin a little self-depreciatingly. “I bought this one when I came back from Europe. Felt nostalgic and I had nothing else to spend the money on.”

“You drove a car off a cliff?” McCoy repeated. Jim laughed a little and began to walk back towards the school doors, his arms wrapped around the bags that were giving off the enticing aroma of freshly baked croissants.

“I was a bit wild when I was a kid,” he replied. McCoy raised an eyebrow but elected to say anything more on the matter. Jim couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for the other man. There was something about McCoy, beneath that standoffishness that Jim felt he could get on with. The way that McCoy had welcomed him, without seeming trite about it.

And watching McCoy’s ass as he walked up the stairs was definitely a job perk that Jim hadn’t been expecting.

* * *

 

Uhura’s classroom management was impeccable. Her activities were simple but effective. Elegant. She could silence talking pupils with a glance in their direction. Her questioning of pupils understanding was comprehensive and showed clear understandings of Bloom’s Taxonomy and various other questioning styles. It was absolutely outstanding.

Jim was finding very little to criticize at all. He sat in the back of the classroom, idly drawing hearts around Uhura’s name while he flicked through worksheets and lesson plans that she’d provided. He noted down a few things, just to be picky. One student had slumped onto their desk. A quick word had got him up and working again and Jim had to raise an eyebrow in appreciation of Uhura’s classroom management. Seriously, he had no idea why he had been asked to observe her, unless it was to compare to what he was about to see elsewhere.

At the end of the lesson the class filed out and Uhura came to stand by him. Her face was completely impassive, neutral but Jim could see the hint of nervousness beneath that. He could also see a bit of a fight in her eyes, that if he assessed her lesson as anything less than amazing, she would argue him into another judgment.

“Wonderful, Miss Uhura,” he said, rising from his seat and handing over his notes for her to read. “I’ll type up the official stuff later for you to keep a copy of but honestly, one of the best language lessons I’ve seen this side of the Atlantic. You have a passion for languages and it shows.”

He was almost sure that Uhura was blushing and a smile spread across her face. Jim held out his hand for her to shake and she took it, handing back the paper with the other hand.

“Now I just have to work on it being the best language lesson you’ve ever seen, Mr Kirk,” she said, her voice pitched high in confidence. Jim laughed and nodded, releasing her hand to walk to the door.

“I’ll see you later, Miss,” he said before he stepped out of the room and closed it behind him. The corridor was mostly empty already, most pupils having filtered into their new classes. He dashed down the corridor to Chekov’s classroom. He knocked before he opened it.

The classroom was… rowdy. The kids were all talking to each other; some were out of their seats. Jim glanced to Chekov to see the other was stood at the front, waiting patiently for the students to see he was ready to teach. A few students saw him enter the room and began to quieten and by the time Jim had walked to the back, there was, if not silence, then quiet.

“Wery well, let’s begin,” Chekov said and clicked onto another slide on his projector. Behind him an atom appeared. It was the lesson that Jim had been teaching with balloons the day before, although Chekov had made or found a 3D model instead that was rotating slowly on the board.

Jim watched as pupils started to come up to the board, using the interactive whiteboard with varying degrees of success to identify the different parts.

“Sir! But you know… if that’s what an atom is… what’s the stuff like… in between all the electrons and protons and stuff?” One pupil near the front asked. Chekov nearly bounced with enthusiasm. Jim saw a few of the girls near him share smiles.

“ _Zat_ is an interesting question, Max! Ze answer is zat we do not know! And _zat_ is why physics is much more exciting than other fields of science! Zere is so much we do not know and so much left to discover! Perhaps you will be discovering it!” Chekov’s smile was bright and sunny. Jim smiled slightly. The rest of the lesson was pretty standard. It was basic work on dissecting different atoms and how they worked, with a bit of an interesting segue into the existence of exotic matter for discussion at the end. Jim was pretty sure that some of the pupils in the room hadn’t quite got the basics though.

The thing was he could appreciate that Chekov had a true passion for physics, could see his gift shown in the way that he bounced around the room like an overactive puppy. But he couldn’t say that the lesson was quite on par with Uhura’s. He was younger, rougher around the edges, still finding his style and comfort zones. He was still learning how to convey the knowledge he had to the students.

He didn’t show Chekov his notes the same as he had Uhura, instead he shook the other’s hand, smiled brightly and reminded Chekov that it was his turn for breakfast pastries in the morning. The Russian had beamed at him, though Jim noticed a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck.

“Don’t be so nervous! Honestly, it was an alright lesson,” Jim reassured him, clapping him on the back. Chekov shot him a grin that seemed genuine.

“And zat is easy for you to say. I am not being used to hawing a physics specialist wiew my lessons. It is nerve-wracking. I cannot be making any errors,” he said. Jim chuckled.

“Kid, you are a certified genius in astro-physics. I’m pretty sure I could learn something from you rather than be able to spot you making a mistake,” he said cheerfully. The next class had started to file in and Jim ruffled Chekov’s hair, causing the other to yelp and swear at him in Russian.

Laughing Jim ducked out and left Chekov to it. He walked down the corridor, tapping his pen against the palm of his hand. It was Leonard McCoy’s turn now. He wondered what he was about to see. Would McCoy bring out the big guns? Would Jim see the kind of teacher that McCoy _could_ be? Or was he going to see a somewhat flat lesson?

He didn’t expect what he got, that was for sure. McCoy was at the front of the room, the class was silent, and they were already working directly from textbooks. Jim noticed that the back of the room was completely taken up by students and the only desk left for him to sit in was right at the front by McCoy. He took the seat at the front, aware that McCoy would be able to see whatever he wrote and he waited for the lesson proper to begin.

Only it never came. The class continued to work silently, the only sounds in the room quiet coughs or sniffles and the scratching of pens against paper. McCoy didn’t look up from his desk once, working steadily at grading papers. Jim’s knee started to jump restlessly. He looked around the room again.

The pupils looked terrified, like they didn’t want to move in case they broke the silence. Jim saw one boy unzip his pencil case with exaggerated slowness so that he didn’t make a sound. He glanced back at McCoy.

This was… embarrassing. It made Chekov’s lesson look almost godly in comparison. He longed to get up to the front, to start asking questions, chatting to the pupils, anything other than the morgue he felt he’d wandered into.

The fact that there was nothing much too actually observe meant that Jim watched McCoy instead. He really was good-looking, in a rugged kind of way. He had a small amount of stubble, a tell-tale sign that he hadn’t shaved that morning, and his constant frown made his expression almost constantly intense. Jim wondered if he looked that way when he was undressing people, all that concentration and care turned onto the object of his-

Jim cleared his throat and tried to dispel the thoughts running through his head. A few students looked at him, then glanced at McCoy and quickly looked away. McCoy looked at him for the first time too and Jim cast him a small smile. McCoy just frowned and looked back down.

“Get your stuff together and get out. See you all tomorrow,” McCoy announced suddenly. Jim looked at the clock. Had he really spent only forty minutes in here? It felt like he’d spent a century in there. Although the daydreams had been somewhat pleasant. He glanced down at the blank sheet of paper and sighed.

When the last pupil left, Jim got to his feet.

“What did you honestly expect to see, Kirk?” McCoy snapped suddenly. Jim immediately felt on the back foot. Compared to their slightly more friendly conversation earlier, it was strange that McCoy had become so antagonistic.

 _He knows this isn’t good enough. He knows he’s not doing this right and he’s sure I’m going to attack him on it_.

Jim held up the blank piece of paper. “I didn’t see a lesson, Bones, so I can’t judge anything.”

McCoy’s lips thinned and Jim wondered if he was about to get throttled or yelled at. Instead McCoy heaved a deep breath and, for a moment, his expression eased a little and Jim could see the line of his brow without the deep furrows it usually had. He felt his stomach knot a little.

“Well, that’s blunt,” he replied. Jim shrugged.

“I saw no starter activity, no plenary, no range of activities, no consideration to pupil’s learning styles… Bones, I want you to do well. So I’m going to come and see you again and next time I’m going to give you warning. I want you to _try_ because it looks like you’ve given up,” Jim said, shrugging slightly. McCoy looked at him sharply, frown back in place.

“You don’t know anything about me, kid. Perhaps I was always this kind of teacher?” he growled. Jim smiled, holding up his hands to show that he wasn’t cowed but didn’t want a fight about it.

“Because you aren’t. I know you aren’t. I can see it in you. That ability to do well, to be a true genius at what you do and I’m going to make sure that you shine Bones. I think you’ve spent too long being the grumpy troll at the end of the corridor and it’s your turn to start to do something interesting that shows the rest of the department that Sulu isn’t the only teacher who is capable of pushing kids not just through their exams, but into truly enjoying the subject,” he said. McCoy’s expression was unreadable and Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the other thought of him right at that moment.

“Get out, Kirk. I want a break and your incessant chatter is just going to make that harder,” McCoy said. Jim knew a dismissal when he heard one and he nodded, making sure he had all his things and leaving straight away.

* * *

“I refuse.”

Jim gritted his teeth. Pike was pretty much demanding copies of his notes from his observation trail and like _hell_ he was handing them over. He hadn’t observed his fellow practitioners as a spy for the management. Their feedback should be constructive, not used to write reports or add to their employment records.

“Kirk, it’s not like you can refuse to give me data on your department,” Pike replied evenly. Jim shook his head, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets.

“I promise you that the starting point of all the staff is already well-documented. This is ridiculous to demand. Maybe at the end of the year, when changes have been implemented-“

“If there are weak links, they have to be identified, Jim,” Pike replied and Jim bristled slightly at the other’s use of, not only his Christian name, but a shortened version of it. He hadn’t had this impression of Pike at interview and he wondered why the other was suddenly on his case.

“I know that this department will be the best Science Department in the state within three years, but there’s no use exposing people when they haven’t even had a chance to evaluate their own performance!” he replied. Pike looked at him, blue eyes stern as he seemed to measure Jim’s reaction.

“The best department within three years, huh?” he asked, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “We might not have that long Jim. They’re threatening an inspection sometime this year and it might be next week for all I know. I _need_ that data.”

Jim shook his head. He unclenched his fists so he could lean on the back of the chair in front of him. He purposefully met Pike’s gaze, shoulders squared and determination making his jaw twitch.

“I’ll do another round of observations after Thanksgiving. Give me until then and I promise you, you’ll have your data,” he said levelly. Pike leaned back in his chair, rubbing against his brow absently as he thought.

“Until Thanksgiving then. And don’t think I don’t know who you’re protecting, Kirk. I know enough about my own school to know that it wasn’t Nyota’s lesson that went awry,” he said, sighing deeply. Jim straightened, keeping his face carefully blank.

“Miss Uhura is an excellent teacher,” he agreed. Pike looked at him carefully for a moment longer before shrugging.

“Get out of my office then, Kirk. You’ve got kids to teach.”

* * *

Jim was laughing so hard that his eyes were watering. The class looked somewhat chaotic, with children seeming to be running around everywhere with balloons and little signs that held coded messages on them that they had to decrypt using answers from each other’s cards, but honestly, it was all in good fun.

One boy had just managed to finally get it and used the weirdest metaphor Jim had ever heard for how an atom worked. He was just managing to get himself under control when the door to his classroom opened.

Jim turned, surprised to see McCoy frozen in the doorway. For a moment, McCoy looked completely and utterly perplexed, before his face returned to its default scowl. He walked across the room to where Jim was standing.

“This looks…” McCoy trailed off and Jim watched as his eyes surveyed the room. He saw the moment that McCoy got what was going on, saw his eyes widen fractionally when he realised that amidst all this chaos, there was something wonderful happening.

One kid ran into another, quickly apologising, trading snappish answers before parting ways to pounce on another unsuspecting victim.

“It’s pure and utter chaos. Just the way I like it- TAMMY DON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT TURNING ON THAT GAS TAP!” Jim broke off his sentence to yell at a girl who had reached forward to turn the gas tap on. Her hand shrank back from it instantly and she gave Jim an innocent smile before returning back to what she was supposed to be doing.

“How do you avoid having the mother of all headaches after every lesson?” McCoy wondered out loud. Jim laughed and clapped McCoy on the back.

“Oh you know, I keep a jar of Tylenol in my desk and a prescription for Valium under my pillow at night,” he replied off the cuff. McCoy let out a huff that might have been a chuckle and Jim felt a warm feeling in his stomach. “You gonna stick around and watch for a bit?”

He asked the question casually and he saw the conflict on McCoy’s face. If McCoy stayed, there was no excuse in saying that he didn’t know what Jim was looking for from lessons, but if he didn’t stay he might miss out on something interesting. McCoy eventually began to move across the room and, to Jim’s surprise, he started to join in, asking students what they were doing, shadowing a few around the room as they completed their task.

When it was time for them all to sit down, it took Jim about five minutes to settle them all, getting them to find pens that had been brushed onto the floor and to put balloons back where they’d found them. Still, when he started to ask questions, nearly every pupil in the room was prepared to answer.

Getting them writing was harder and Jim noticed that McCoy had sat with one of the less able pupils, carefully guiding them through the writing up of the task. The poor boy looked out of his mind with terror at first, but within a few minutes he was pure concentration, clearly listening to McCoy’s drawl as the other talked him through the work.

Jim went around the room, talking to each pupil about whatever it was that they wanted to talk about. Some of them wanted to talk about the work, some of them had questions about him, some wanted to talk about television or films or computer games. He treated every conversation as a chance to build a relationship with the child in question before moving on to the next. The result was that by the end of the lesson, every single pupil had completed the task set and Jim breathed a sigh of relief as they left the room.

“What can I say, Kirk, your reputation isn’t unfounded. That was amazing,” McCoy said once the pupils had left. Jim looked up at him and grinned brightly, feeling a flush of pride surge through his chest. He began to shuffle spare worksheets a little nervously.

McCoy moved closer, standing in front of him now. His shirt was wrinkled and he smelled of shower gel and anti-perspirant rather than anything particularly pleasing, but Jim felt suddenly overwhelmed. He couldn’t meet the other’s eyes.

“What can I say? I’m a genius,” he said, shrugging and turning to put the worksheets in the recycling. McCoy didn’t move or say anything more until Jim turned back. Jim could see there was a look on his face, like the other was seeing him truly for the first time.

“You’re blushing,” McCoy observed. Jim rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to turn any pinker even as he felt his cheeks heating.

“I know I’m good at my job, Bones,” he replied easily, trying to throw off the compliments with nonchalance. The truth was, he was used to people hating him for being a newcomer, used to people associating his success with his looks or with his fortunate family; accepting compliments for just himself, for just being Jim Kirk who was a good teacher, felt unnatural.

“Then why are you blushing like a school girl after her first kiss, Jim?” McCoy asked and Jim could hear the light teasing in his voice. His throat closed up and he looked up at McCoy, meeting the amused hazel eyes and opening his mouth to speak, before licking his lips and closing it again.

“Er…” he replied eloquently. McCoy chuckled, deep and low and rumbling and Jim felt his stomach knot again. It was really rather inconvenient to have developed a crush on a colleague, especially one that seemed to be able to get him worked up so easily.

“I’ll leave you to think of a witty comeback. Be sure to tell me when you think of it,” McCoy said, heading to the door. When he got there he paused, his hand on the door knob. He paused, looking back at Jim.

“Thanks though. For… letting me watch your lesson,” he said, nodding before yanking the door open and leaving.

Jim collapsed into his desk chair and stared at the door as it swung shut behind McCoy.

 _Well shit_.

* * *

_Georgia… Georgia… The whole day through…_

Ray Charles crooned from Jim’s record player. He kicked off his shoes, pulling his plate of soggy vegetables and overcooked meat onto his lap as he checked over the student’s work with the hand he wasn’t eating with.

_Just an old sweet song…Keeps Georgia on my mind…_

He jammed a particularly large piece of broccoli into his mouth, ignoring the bland taste as his brow furrowed. It was the student that McCoy had been helping earlier and Jim could see, clear as day, the way that McCoy had carefully constructed the pupil’s learning. McCoy’s scrawl was dotted around the page, rewording questions and sentences to ensure better understanding of the tasks at hand.

_I said Georgia… Georgia… A song of you… Comes as sweet and clear… As moonlight through the pines…_

McCoy was a mystery. A man who knew what he should be doing, knew how to do it, clearly cared deeply. He was gruff, but not unfeeling. In some ways, he was the opposite of what Jim had observed of Spock. Spock was full of creative teaching methods, but there was very little emotion behind it.

It seemed like it was emotion that was holding McCoy back.

_Other arms reach out to me… Other eyes smile tenderly… Still in peaceful dreams I see… The road leads back to you…_

Had it just been the divorce that had made McCoy the way he was? McCoy had been right to say that Jim didn’t know him, couldn’t make a true assessment of him from one lesson that he’d seen. Even so, he wanted McCoy’s respect, he wanted to help him, he wanted… His stomach did the weird flipping thing again.

_I said Georgia… Whoa Georgia… No peace I’ll find… Just an old sweet song… Keeps Georgia on my mind…_


	4. Alcohol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe you should come along next time, McCoy? Might do you good to do something that could be considered illegal in some states?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much irresponsible drinking in this chapter, you have been warned.

“Hey Jim, me and Pasha were wondering if you wanted to go for a drink with us after work tonight?” Sulu popped his head through Jim’s door. He’d been at the school for two weeks and managed to establish himself pretty well. As September dawned and the leaves started to change, he realised that he was going to be bogged down dealing with reams of paperwork. It was fairly obvious to him that the school needed to update not only its behavioural policies, but also swap to paperless communication.

But today. Today was _Friday_ and that was almost a godsend to Jim. A whole two days until he needed to be in work again. Not that he wasn’t enjoying his job, just that anyone who worked with kids knew, you needed time off almost as desperately as you needed to be in the classroom.

“Sure thing. I’ll need to travel home to drop my car off though,” he said, secretly pleased that Sulu had thought to invite him out. Sulu smiled.

“No problem. Drop your car off and head to Rí Rá. Happy hour ends at seven but we’re usually there until closing. The place serves food too if you want it,” Sulu said. Jim nodded, knowing he was going to have to get a taxi to the place. He hadn’t heard of it, but he was willing to try anything just to stop staring at the blank walls of his apartment.

“Alright then. I’ll see you down there in about an hour,” he said, throwing down his pen and turning off his computer with a flourish. Sulu laughed a little.

“I hope you can hold your booze, Mr Kirk. Friday nights always end up being a little rough on the weak.”

* * *

Sulu hadn’t been kidding.

Jim had arrived just after five and everyone was already there, though judging by their full drinks they’d only just beat him to the place. He waved and made his way to the bar, surprised it was already so busy so early. It was an Irish bar, the inside done up in a way that seemed like someone had _perhaps_ seen the inside of a true Irish pub although with the football being broadcast on all the screens, Jim couldn’t say it felt one hundred percent authentic.

He ordered himself Guinness – _when in Rome… -_ and headed back to the table. Uhura scooted over in the booth to give him space to sit and he sat down, loosening his tie and shoving his wallet back in his pocket. Scotty and Uhura were both there, drinking what looked to be whiskey on the rocks. Sulu and Chekov were both on beers, though Jim couldn’t have said if it was European or American.

“No Spock or McCoy?” Jim asked. Uhura rolled her eyes.

“Oh they never come out. Spock doesn’t drink and McCoy doesn’t socialise much,” she explained. She’d changed before coming out, wearing black jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket. She looked amazing and Jim felt a little bad that he hadn’t thought to at least change his shirt. He didn’t feel too bad though, when he took in that all the other men were also still in their work clothes, their jackets thrown over the back of the booth and their shirt sleeves rolled up.

“I am wery glad you are not a sourpuss like those two Jim!” Chekov said, taking a deep swig of his beer. “It is always interesting to hawe new drinking buddies!”

Jim just raised his pint in toast to Chekov and took a sip of it. He made sure to wipe off his foam moustache before he placed the pint back down. Beside him Uhura started talking about one of her classes, sharing a story about one of the students and Jim let the tide of the conversation ride over him.

“What about you Jim? You must have interesting stories?” Uhura asked. Jim blinked, surprised at being addressed and took a long swig of his drink before answering.

“I don’t know. I mean sure, I’ve seen some stuff but it’s never really interesting to hear stories about other people’s travels,” he said with a shrug. Scotty leaned forward, the ice in his class clinking as he caught it with his hand.

“I heard from McCoy that you drove your dad’s car off a cliff when you were younger,” he prompted. Jim frowned, wondering when McCoy and Scotty had been gossiping about him.

“Yeah, well, it’s not something I’d ever recommend doing,” he replied. Scotty leaned back in his seat with something akin to horror.

“It was a _Stingray_ , Jim. You just don’t do that to a _Stingray_ ,” he said, his tone horrified. Chekov was looking between the two of them and Sulu was wisely finishing off his beer.

“Boys, boys, let’s not get caught up in car stories, _please_ ,” Uhura said, finishing her drink and sliding the glass across the table. “Jim come and help me with the next round.”

Jim gratefully got to his feet and followed her to the bar. She rattled off the order to the bar maid before she paused, looking at him.

“What are you drinking? Another Guinness?” she asked. Jim shook his head.

“Nah. Gives me nosebleeds if I drink too much. You drinking whiskey? I’ll have that,” he said with a shrug. Uhura smiled and ordered another glass of Jameson’s on the rocks. Jim watched her profile carefully.

“You know, I’ve been wondering. There’s a lot of single male teachers on the staff list… why aren’t you seeing someone?” he asked. Uhura’s eyebrows rose to her hairline but she didn’t scowl, instead smiling a little indulgently.

“I’m not interested, if that’s what you’re getting at, Kirk,” she said. Jim laughed, thanking the barmaid quietly as she set down the three whiskeys in front of them.

“That’s not what I was getting at, actually. Although you’re beautiful, and I certainly wouldn’t say no, something tells me you’d eat me alive,” he replied, taking a sip of the whiskey and letting it warm as it went down.

“You’re right. I would. Oh and Kirk, you’re paying,” she said, before taking the two beers back to the table and leaving Jim to settle the round and carry back three glasses of whiskey. She hadn’t even given him his answer.

* * *

 

Jim was drunk. Wasted drunk. The kind of drunk he hadn’t been since college. The room was spinning. He was pretty sure he needed to sit down. No wait, he was sat down. Where was he again?

Sulu was wearing his tie as a bandana. That was funny. Jim couldn’t remember why though. Was it a stereotype thing? Would it be racist to tell Sulu it was funny? Jim slurred it to him and Sulu kissed his forehead and told him he loved him.

Uhura had left hours ago, citing the need for an early night as she had to be up in the morning, and left him, Sulu, Scotty and Chekov to drink more and more until Jim had to grip the bar to remain standing.

“Zis is my song! Yes! Get up we are dancing!” Chekov shouted suddenly and Jim felt himself being pulled onto his feet. It should have been awkward. Four grown men all dancing together in an _Irish pub_ no less, but Jim couldn’t care. He wasn’t really _dancing_ anyway, more shuffling from side to side until he bumped into either Scotty or Sulu and then moving the other way again.

This had really been a great idea.

* * *

 

That had really been a bad idea.

Jim held onto the toilet bowl for dear life as he relived the night in reverse. Who had suggested cocktails? Who had started fed him pizza? Who had convinced him that mixing whiskey and vodka was a great plan?

He wretched pitifully, shaking from head to toe, his head pounding.

He was never going to drink again.

Ever.

* * *

 

Monday morning came too fast. Jim was used to hangovers, but not ones that lasted more than one day. Saturday had been a complete write-off, and Sunday hadn’t fared much better. He came in on Monday morning feeling like he hadn’t had the weekend off at all. He sat behind his desk, staring at the pile of work he’d abandoned on Friday and put his head in his hands.

“Good morning, Captain!”

He looked up to see Sulu there, a bag of groceries in his hand that proved that it was his turn for Jim’s impromptu breakfast club. Jim gave him a warm smile, wondering why he was suddenly being called ‘Captain’ all of a sudden.

“Oh there’s the look of confusion that says you don’t quite remember all of Friday night,” Sulu said, laughing as he threw Jim a bottle of water from the back and a croissant. Jim gratefully opened the water. He was pretty sure he’d never rehydrate again.

“You’re right. I don’t even remember leaving Rí Rá,” he admitted. Sulu’s grin turned a little evil.

“Well, we hit up a few bars afterwards. We were a whirlwind. And at one point, you tried to down a fifth of Captain Morgan’s rum. Which would have been impressive if you hadn’t immediately gone to the bathroom to be sick,” Sulu said cheerfully. Jim stared at him. A fifth of a bottle… No. Way.

“You’re lying,” he decided, more for his dignity than anything else. Sulu just laughed.

“Nope. You were amazing. I’ve never seen someone so drunk and yet still standing and able to form words,” he said. “But man, you’re crazy when you get drunk. I still can’t believe you managed to get that girl’s number!”

Jim frowned. He’d got a girl’s number? He pulled out his wallet, digging through it until he found a business card with the name ‘Gaila’ written on it, and a number. He stared at it for a moment wondering who the _fuck_ Gaila was.

“Oh Sulu! Are you debriefing ze Captain? It was a wery fun night!” Chekov appeared at the door, walking in and helping himself to pastries out of the grocery bag. Jim was just staring at the card in his hands dumbly.

“I should probably call her…” he said. “Was she hot?”

“Smokin’,” Sulu confirmed, grinning still. Jim shook his head, a grin forming across his face in spite of himself.

“Tell me that you don’t do that every Friday night? I think I’d give myself liver damage,” he said. Sulu chuckled and shook his head.

“No, usually it’s a lot more tame than that. A few drinks then home. I guess you just needed to let go a bit,” he said, before glancing at Chekov. “I guess we all did.”

Jim talked with them for a few minutes after that, laughing about some of the things that they’d done while drunk, reminding each other of their behaviour. At one point Sulu flat out denied that he’d been dancing to Kylie Minogue, until Chekov pulled out video evidence and they all laughed at the uncoordinated boogie-shuffle that Sulu had been trying to perform.

“Whoa. What’re you all doing in here?”

Jim looked up to see McCoy stood there. Chekov was laughing hard still, mimicking the best parts of Sulu’s dancing. Jim smiled and gestured for McCoy to come look but Sulu snatched the phone out of Chekov’s hands.

“No way! You don’t come on the night out, you don’t get to see the aftermath. I’m invoking _nomikai_ rules! What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!” he declared, shutting off the phone and the screechy tones of _Lucky_ disappearing. McCoy just blinked.

“Right so you guys went out on Friday night again, huh?” he asked and shook his head. He turned to Jim. “And you’re a fool if you let them convince you it was a good idea. They end up the talk of the staffroom every single damn time for doing something either illegal or stupid.”

Jim felt like a high schooler getting told off for underage drinking and he couldn’t help but grin at McCoy.

“Maybe you should come along next time, McCoy? Might do you good to do something that could be considered illegal in some states?” he suggested and then wondered if the alcohol had addled his brain because that had _definitely_ been a come on and Chekov and Sulu were looking at him like he’d grown an extra head. Hell, _McCoy_ was looking at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“When I want to end up getting reacquainted with my toilet bowl, I’ll let you know,” McCoy replied after a silence that stretched just a little bit too long. Jim tried not to grimace. “I’m actually here to ask if I can steal some glue sticks. Some little shit has eaten mine or something…”

Jim gestured for McCoy to help himself and the other did before leaving. Chekov and Sulu were still staring at him with their mouths open.

“Dude-“

“Did you just-“

“No,” Jim said firmly. “No I did not.”

* * *

 

Jim spent the rest of the week dodging comments from his colleagues. Uhura wanted to talk about the night out, Chekov and Sulu kept making comments about Jim’s _illegal_ activities and Scotty refused to call Jim anything other than ‘Captain’. By the time Thursday rolled around, even Spock, who Jim would have thought was above such things, was calling him ‘Captain’ with a curl to the corner of his mouth.

Added to his frustration was the fact that every day, like clockwork, McCoy dashed out of the fire escape and down the stairs without a backwards glance. While Jim and the rest of his colleagues were stuck marking books and doing their _work_ (and okay, being subjected to good-natured teasing about their ability to hold drink), McCoy was already on his way home.

And just what was so amazing that McCoy needed to escape just as the bell went?

Jim watched the fire escape door open and resolved, in that moment, to see for himself.

He grabbed his car keys and raced down the corridor, dodging through the fire escape door and hoping the old fire escape didn’t collapse under his rapid footfalls. He saw McCoy’s car leaving the car park just as he got to his Chevrolet and slid inside, starting her up and reversing as fast as was safely possible out of the parking lot.

Following McCoy was stupid, but Jim guessed he wasn’t being rational. He was curious. Did McCoy have a second job? That could explain a lot. Did he have to be home to let out an animal or to go to a class? Did he have something that was oh so important that he couldn’t spend a moment longer in school when everyone else was working? What was it?

What made McCoy tick?

Jim followed him further and further out of Atlanta until he was in the leafy suburbs that housed some of the best schools in the area. He drove past a high school that had tried to headhunt him when he’d first come back to America, an international school that had some of the highest grades in the state. It’s pupils were leaving the gates, dressed in blazers and looking like they’d stepped out of the 1950s.

Finally McCoy pulled into a side street and Jim curious followed him. There was an elementary school there. McCoy’s car pulled up and Jim pulled up a safe distance behind so he wouldn’t be seen. McCoy didn’t exit his car, none of the children who were walking passed seemed to so much as glance at him. After five or so minutes, McCoy pulled away and drove off again.

Jim scowled, staring at his steering wheel and wondering what the hell had just happened.

* * *

 

“So… Jim… Captain Jim… Jim the Captain…” Sulu walked around the back of Jim’s classroom on Friday morning like the devil himself. He had a smirk on his face and was running his hand over one of the desks.

“No,” Jim said firmly.

Yet at five, at Rí Rá, there he was, a pint of Guinness in front of him and Scotty laughing into his shoulder.

It felt good. It felt strange.

It felt like making friends.


	5. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The embrace was nothing like the awkward clapping back hug he’d given McCoy earlier. This one was warm and long and protective. He rested his uninjured cheek against McCoy’s shoulder and felt the other’s fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck. He didn’t stop shaking for a few minutes, but it didn’t matter because McCoy didn’t let go even when the door opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback so far! Please if you read drop some kudos or leave me a comment saying what you liked/what you didn't so I can improve :D

Thanksgiving rolled around faster than Jim would have thought possible. He had finally settled in, got to know his classes and though he knew that it might still be a few more months until he was completely at home in the school and had developed all the bonds he needed to, he still felt it was an achievement to have managed to get so far so fast.

It was strange. Despite the dismal grey colour scheme, despite the peeling paint and the general atmosphere of the neglect, he hadn’t felt this at home in a long time. Every morning he sat in the Science Office, chatting with Sulu and Chekov until Spock came in to deliver briefing. Uhura had even taken to talking to him, sitting beside him and talking about what had become a shared interest in linguistics and educational theory. Scotty sometimes dragged himself away from his classroom long enough to partake too, although he usually was absent bar for Friday nights when he would be found at Rí Rá, getting a round in.

McCoy had not joined them at first for the breakfast club, but as September ended, he ventured in more and more until it came to a point where Jim automatically poured two mugs of coffee in the mornings, positioning it in a place that he’d come to think of as McCoy’s.

His crush on the other man hadn’t abated and though Jim had been careful to keep all his flirtations to himself now he didn’t have a hangover to blame it on. He hoped it wasn’t as noticeable to everyone else in the department, though sometimes he thought he saw Uhura watching him when he spoke to McCoy.

Surprisingly, Jim had developed a rather close bond with Spock. It had started when he suggested starting up a scientific exploration club after school, one that wouldn’t be about work but instead about pure practical experiments and research projects. Spock had been intrigued by the idea and they’d spent many weekday evenings setting up schedules and bouncing ideas back and forth on what would be needed.

The club had started and had met with an initially lukewarm response from the student body. It was only when word started to drift through the ranks about controlled explosions and building rocket ships using computer programmes, that more started to filter into the club. Jim wasn’t sure, but he when they reached twenty regulars, he was almost certain that he saw Spock’s first true smile.

Halloween had been an interesting experience as well. The school had a strict policy of keeping Halloween out of the classroom due to the religious sensibilities of some of the parents, which Jim felt was absurd. Halloween had been one thing that he’d missed most out in Europe and he worked his hardest to get subtle (and not so subtle) references in to his lessons in the week leading up to it. It was only when Pike had turned up impromptu to see him and noticed that Jim was using apple bobbing as a means to get pupils to understand buoyancy and forces that he had to put a stop to it all.

Still it had been a decent enough run.

And that Friday, Uhura’s cat costume had been worth abstaining from any further Halloween activities all week.

But now that Halloween was out of the way and Thanksgiving was merely a week away, there was an air of urgency around the department. Pike had ordered a round of observations and this time he demanded that Jim report back to him on what he saw. Being able to give notice had been a blessing and a curse.

For one thing, everyone was watching him like a hawk whenever he came into their classrooms. A barrier raised between them all, something that Jim felt isolating. The only one who treated him exactly the same was Uhura, who still reserved her most cutting remarks for when Jim was in the room.

“So, today’s the day huh?” Uhura asked when Jim came in that morning. She put a cup of coffee in front of him before he’d even taken off his coat. Jim relaxed into his seat gratefully, wondering if there was any point in hiding his nerves.

“I hate this feeling. I hate formally observing people,” he said, sitting down and accepting his drink. Uhura nodded in understanding.

“Especially as you’d really started to develop friendships with everyone,” she said and Jim grasped his heart.

“And she goes in for the kill and I’ve only been here ninety seconds,” he gasped, slumping over his coffee. She hit him lightly on the shoulder.

“Man up Kirk,” she replied good-naturedly. “What’s your timetable like?”

Jim reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a much folded and unfolded piece of paper and spreading it out. Uhura leaned over to look at it. Her perfume really was pleasant.

“You know, a little lower and-“

“In your dreams Kirk,” she replied as she sat up. Jim waggled his eyebrows and Uhura just laughed. “And to think I made you coffee this morning to cheer you up! You’re a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen!”

They laughed for a few moments before the door opened and Sulu came in. He looked between the two of them, then made himself a drink. He mumbled good morning and fled back to his classroom, shutting the door beside him.

“You think if you’d made any sudden movements he’d have bolted?” Uhura asked. Jim chuckled.

“Possibly. Sulu’s good enough not to have to worry though…” Jim trailed off, thinking of the other lessons he was going to see. First lesson was Sulu, but directly afterwards was McCoy and Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to do that lesson observation at all. Uhura was watching him carefully.

“You’re going to be pleasantly surprised, Jim,” she said softly and Jim glanced at her, wondering if she was perceptive or secretly had telepathic powers.

“I firmly believe in everyone,” he said, making sure that he sounded like he did. Uhura smiled, a genuine warm smile and leaned forward. Her long fingers ran through his hair, smoothing it from where he’d ruffled through stress when driving into work. At that moment the door opened again and McCoy stepped in followed by Spock.

Both men seemed to pull up short from the tender gesture and Jim jerked away from Uhura’s hand, which in retrospect probably made it look worse. He took a gulp of his coffee, coughing when it burnt the roof of his mouth.

“You are in early today, Nyota,” Spock said. Jim’s eyebrows rose slightly. He’d never heard someone call Uhura by her first name before, but Uhura didn’t correct Spock. He looked between them, wondering if he was treading on someone’s toes.

“Hey, Bones. Want some coffee?” he asked, getting to his feet. McCoy wasn’t looking at him, instead hanging his coat off the back of a chair.

“Sure Jim. You know how I like it,” he said, but Jim could hear something in his voice that was subdued and withdrawn. He shared a look with Uhura but she just gave him an enigmatic smile and shook her head slightly.

Spock and McCoy joined them, although conversation turned to more general topics. No one brought up the observations and Jim was a little grateful. When it was time for briefing, everyone materialised. Sulu looked a little green as they went through the day’s notices and Spock informed everyone of the day’s timetable. Jim stared into his coffee cup and tried not to dwell on the nervous looks everyone was giving him.

He barely noticed Spock had finished talking until he felt a hand on his shoulder, large, warm and heavy. He looked up to see McCoy was stood beside him. He didn’t look wary or nervous, in fact Jim thought he saw a little excitement there, but then it was gone, behind McCoy’s normal scowl.

“You gonna skip homeroom?” he asked and Jim got to his feet, smiling easily.

“Sorry Bones. Was lost in a world of my own,” he said, picking up his classroom keys and drinking what was left of his lukewarm coffee. McCoy nodded and waited for him.

They walked down the corridor in silence until they got to Jim’s classroom door. He unlocked it and was surprised when McCoy hovered instead of continuing to his own.

“I just… I want you to know that whatever the verdict today, I’m not going to hold it against you,” McCoy said finally, his hazel eyes roaming the corridor for something to look at other than Jim. Jim felt his heart swell but before he could open his mouth to reply a hoard of teenagers appeared at the end of the corridor, their noisy chatter echoing down the hall.

“See you period two,” McCoy said and disappeared into his own classroom. Jim rubbed the back of his neck, stepping aside to let his students inside and wondering what on earth he was going to do if it _did_ all go horribly, horribly wrong.

Homeroom seemed to drag on forever and by the time it was over, the pupils filed out, Jim’s leg was bouncing nervously. He darted to Sulu’s classroom, taking a space at the back and casting the other a bright smile as he did so. Sulu was looking at him like he was an enemy that he had to defeat and Jim tried not be too offended.

What followed was truly unique. Sulu was clearly the best botanist on campus. His lesson was the culmination of previous work on cloning plant life to conserve habitats and Jim stared in awe as pupils produced their own cloned cauliflower cultures and evaluated not only their own work, but the method in regards to ecology and the wider issue of deforestation. To say he was impressed was an understatement.

There were still issues. A few pupils failed to adhere to lab safety procedures, a few didn’t understand the evaluation sheets they were given, but on the whole, Jim was astonished by Sulu’s forward planning. He got up half way through to share his thoughts with Sulu and was rewarded with one of the brightest smiles he’d seen from the man so far.

He left five minutes before the end of the lesson when the pupils were packing up, in order to make sure he got to McCoy’s classroom in time. He walked inside once the previous class filed out, a lot more talkative than Jim would have thought they would be, and shot McCoy a grin.

“You all ready?” he asked. McCoy looked up then nodded.

“Yeah. Just gotta hope the kids turn up on time,” he said with a shrug. “Lots to get through.”

Jim hoped to god that didn’t mean that they had to get through pages 59-63 and took a position at the back of the room. McCoy hovered near the door, greeting the students. None of them seemed to find it strange, so McCoy obviously had started to do that recently. In fact, the students all sat down, and though they were quiet, they weren’t terrified like they had been before.

McCoy finally closed the door and moved to the front. He brought up an image on the screen. It was green lines against a black background and had a bright light in the middle from which all the thin tendrils seemed to stem. Jim thought it looked like a rather beautiful piece of modern art.

“You’ve got one minute. With the person next to you, discuss what this is.”

McCoy then stood there and waited as the classroom erupted into pupils talking. Jim noted a few students were using it as an opportunity to discuss last night’s television but he saw that McCoy had picked up on it too and was moving towards them.

A quiet word, so low that Jim had no idea what was said, and the pupils swallowed, nodding and their conversation turned towards ‘what are those green squiggles huh?’ instead. McCoy glanced at him, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smirk.

“You worked out what it is yet?” he asked. Jim was surprised that McCoy would talk to him, most pretended he wasn’t there. He looked carefully at the board.

“At present, not a clue. We’re in a biology lesson though, so I’m going to rule out weird space phenomenon,” he said good-naturedly. McCoy chuckled and walked away, neither confirming nor denying Jim’s idea. Once he was at the front of the room, the pupils began to silence naturally and McCoy gestured to the board.

“Any guesses?”

Immediately half a dozen hands shot into the air and Jim beamed as McCoy began to carefully steer the class towards the correct answer. He was still incredibly blunt and the more silly suggestions were treated with extreme sarcasm, but the students seemed to take it in a good-natured way, laughing with each other rather than acting on hurt feelings. Eventually a hand from the back of the room went up, somewhat timidly.

“Jana, you got an idea?” McCoy asked and the girl whose hand it had been hesitantly lowered.

“Is it… is it a _brain_?” she asked. McCoy tapped the whiteboard and immediate the answer appeared. It was indeed, a brain.

“Well done, Jana. You’re more intelligent than Mr Kirk. He couldn’t work it out,” he said, gesturing to Jim at the back who laughed self-depreciatingly. He realised he’d been so entranced by watching McCoy’s easy control of the class that he hadn’t written anything down yet. He set out to scribble some general statements while McCoy talked to Jana about how she’d worked it out.

“Now some of you might not know this about me… but I was a neurosurgeon before I became a teacher-“

Jim dropped his pen and stared. McCoy was rubbing the back of his neck at the front of the room and it seemed that with that admission, every single eye in the room was on him.

“Why aren’t you still sir?” A boy asked, clearly confused. McCoy shrugged.

“I didn’t enjoy it,” McCoy replied honestly. “It left me with very little time for the things that really mattered in life. Besides, I like teaching you ingrates. But in any case, I used to operate on people’s brains and today we’re going to investigate how stuff like that’s possible…”

Jim ended up swept away in the tide of McCoy’s lesson. It was unconventional, highly personal. Every kid in the room seemed to be swept into McCoy’s anecdotes, the activities that they were asked to do, they did without complaint so that they could get to the next point where McCoy would talk again.

Jim was doing the maths in his head. He knew that McCoy had been teaching a good few years. He’d thought that McCoy was perhaps the same age as him, but now he realised he must be a good few years older, closer to his forties. Still, Jim couldn’t believe it. A goddamn neurosurgeon? And no one had mentioned it? And it wasn’t on the website?

Jim began to drift through the lesson, writing little and just basking in the sound of McCoy’s deep voice as he explained the specifics of neurosurgery and why certain things were more difficult than others, the parts of the brain that could be operated on without massive amounts of damage, and the parts of the brain that couldn’t.

Before Jim knew it the bell had gone and the kids were filing out. Jim got to his feet, staring down at his sheet where he’d written barely anything and clearing his throat, scooping up his things and making his way to the front.

McCoy looked a little embarrassed for some reason. He ran a hand through his hair and mussed it up a little. Jim resisted the urge to reach out and smooth it. He’d been caught a little too intimately with one member of staff already that morning, he wasn’t going to become known as some weird hair fetish guy. Even so, he put his hand on McCoy’s arm.

“Bones… that was amazing,” he said genuinely. McCoy looked at him then, eyes slightly wide and hopeful. “Seriously. I just… Wow. I knew you had it in you McCoy but I didn’t expect…”

McCoy was blushing and oh god Jim could feel his heart beating three times faster in his chest. He removed his hand from McCoy’s arm and jammed it in his pocket to try to hide how sweaty his palms had become.

“Uhura helped a little with structuring it all once I had decided what I wanted to do…” McCoy admitted. Jim saw the praise dodging tactic and smiled, leaning forward until McCoy was looking at him again. Damn, when he met those eyes he could feel his stomach squirming pleasantly.

“McCoy, Uhura wasn’t here in this classroom. You were. And you were amazing. So give yourself all the credit and repeat after me: I’m a fantastic teacher who don’t need no textbook,” Jim said, grinning. McCoy raised an eyebrow but didn’t repeat the adage.

“Thank you though, Jim, for giving me the second chance,” he said. Jim shook his head.

“You more than deserved it McCoy. Now I’ve got to go see Spock. I’ll give you the feedback later, okay?” he said, and before he knew what he was doing, he’d leaned in and given McCoy a quick hug, slapping his back, before drawing back. McCoy stared at him and he dashed off down the hall.

By the time he got to Spock’s class, he was sure he’d sweat straight through his shirt, which wasn’t a good look on anyone.

*

“You’re telling me that the whole department is teaching to their full capacity?” Pike questioned. Jim sighed and laid out the notes in front of Pike.

“I’m saying that everyone’s working their hardest as teachers. There’s got to be something else that’s pulling down the grades,” he said. He’d put McCoy’s observation feedback sheet right at the top, which had caused Pike to raise his eyebrows but make no comment.

“So what are you going to say it is?” Pike asked. “Because an inspector will ask you to justify it.”

“I don’t know,” Jim replied honestly. “But perhaps there are social factors at work here-“

“That’s a lazy man’s response,” Pike replied. Jim bristled, leaning forward so his hands were flat against Pike’s desk.

“Then, sir, why don’t you tell me why the department is failing, because I sure as hell can’t tell you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. Pike didn’t look threatened, though he didn’t look impressed either.

“Well, after the next line of testing, we’ll be able to see, won’t we?” he said softly. Jim snarled and straightened, gathering his copies of the reports and stalking out of the office, slamming the door loudly enough to cause Janice Rand to jump from where she was filing her nails.

“Are you alright Jim?” she asked. Jim just mouthed ‘wanker’ at her, looked at Pike’s office door pointedly, and stalked back to his classroom for some much needed down time.

*

Jim was walking on air as he walked out to his car at the end of the day to retrieve his laptop to write up some reports. There were still quite a few students milling around the car park, a few greeted him as he waved at them. He felt like he was walking on air.

He had just unlocked his car when he heard the unmistakable chants of ‘fight fight fight’. He rolled his eyes, looking around for the mob that was no doubt forming. He abandoned his keys in the lock as he darted across the car park towards the mob of jeering students.

No one could resist watching a good fight it seemed.

The two boys were squaring up to each other, their respective friends gripping their shirts and arms to try to keep them apart. Jim pushed his way through the students and stood firmly between the two.

“Guys, go home. You don’t need to sort this out this way,” he reasoned, putting a hand on one boy’s chest as he surged forward a little, jostled by the crowd and his own anger.

“You fucking touch my girl again and I swear you’ll be paste,” the other boy said. Jim turned to him, frowning. That moment, when his attention was diverted, was all it needed. The two launched at each other, Jim caught in the middle. A fist connected with his cheek bone as one boy swung a little too wide and clipped him.

He tried to ignore the pain. The boy who had hit him and frozen in horror and was trying to back away but the other boy had grabbed him and was drawing his fist back to punch him. Jim tried to hook his arm around his elbow and pull him back, but he tripped when the boy threw him off balance, gaining an elbow to the side of his head as payment for his trouble.

“ALRIGHT BREAK IT UP NOW!”

Jim managed to grip hold of the one who elbowed him enough that he couldn’t escape, restraining him from continuing to go after the other boy who was quickly high-tailing it out of the car park. The crowd began to disperse.

“You alright?”

It was McCoy. Jim guessed he’d been coming to his car to escape early as usual. He didn’t dare tell McCoy that he was shaken up when he was in front of a load of students still. He let go of the boy he’d been holding back, noting that the boy just stood there shame faced.

“Get to the principal’s office. Now,” McCoy said. The boy slinked away in the direction of the main doors and Jim breathed out a sigh of relief. He looked at McCoy and was surprised to find the man close.

“Come on. We should go to the nurse’s office, you’re bleeding,” McCoy said, taking Jim by the elbow and starting to march him back towards the building. Jim raised a hand to his cheek and nose and felt the stickiness of blood.

“Did you know their names?” he asked, knowing that he was too shaken to write a report on it right at that moment. McCoy’s mouth thinned.

“I do. Don’t worry I’ll sort it out. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, steering Jim through the corridors until he got to Chapel’s office. The nurse was absent but McCoy didn’t even pause, sitting Jim down on the examination table and beginning to rifle through the cabinets.

Jim was about to protest when he remembered that McCoy was a _neurosurgeon_ and was probably more than capable of patching up a few cuts and bruises. He could feel his hands starting to shake.

 _It’s shock_ , he realised, _I wasn’t expecting it and the adrenaline and pain is starting to make me shake. In a minute, I’ll be alright._

It seemed McCoy had realised as well as he was suddenly back inside Jim’s personal space, his hand gently under the other’s chin making him look up. For a moment Jim stared up at McCoy’s face, too shaken to look away from the beautiful hazel of his eyes. McCoy seemed frozen for a moment before his other hand raised up.

For one beautiful moment, Jim thought that the doctor was going to caress his cheek. But instead he felt the stinging pain of antiseptic against his split skin. He swore, grimacing and pulling away.

“Stop being an infant and hold still,” McCoy said, sounding amused. Jim pouted and held still as McCoy gently began to dab at the skin below his right eye and then down to the corner of his mouth. McCoy finally tackled his nose, feeling along the length of it gently.

“Not broken, though when I saw that elbow go back I was almost certain it was,” he declared and began to wipe the blood off Jim’s upper lip. Once he’d finished cleaning away the blood he began to apply some dressings to the bruises cuts, securing them with medical tape carefully.

His fingers brushed against Jim’s hairline, causing him to close his eyes. It was too much to be this close to McCoy and feel those hands on him so gentle. He only opened them again when he felt McCoy’s hands withdraw.

“You’ll be good as new in a few days,” McCoy declared and Jim tried to smile, but it just hurt his face and felt fake. He took a deep, shuddering breath in. McCoy frowned slightly and then hesitantly, as though he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, his hand went behind Jim’s head and pulled him forward.

The embrace was nothing like the awkward clapping back hug he’d given McCoy earlier. This one was warm and long and protective. He rested his uninjured cheek against McCoy’s shoulder and felt the other’s fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck. He didn’t stop shaking for a few minutes, but it didn’t matter because McCoy didn’t let go even when the door opened.

Uhura stood there in the door. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at what she was seeing, instead moving straight to Jim’s side and resting her hand on his lower back.

“You okay, Jim? I know it’s terrible when you’re not expecting it,” she said softly. Jim cleared his throat and guessed he should move out of McCoy’s embrace. The other let him go easily and Jim kept his eyes on Uhura just in case his own reluctance to let go showed on his face.

“I’m fine. I’ve been in plenty of scrapes before. I just didn’t expect one here,” he said, shrugging slightly. Uhura nodded and then looked at McCoy.

“The principal wants you to tell him what you saw so he can phone the parents. Don’t worry, I’ll drive Jim home,” she said. Jim shook his head.

“I can drive myself,” he protested. Uhura shook her head.

“No. I’m going to drive that beautiful car of yours for you then I’ll catch the bus back to mine. I’ve already asked Spock to pick me up tomorrow on his way to work so you’ll be inconveniencing me, not to mention cheating me out of an opportunity to drive your car, if you say no,” she said. Jim felt a genuine smile break across his face and he nodded helplessly.

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” McCoy said. He ruffled Jim’s hair in a fatherly gesture before he left. Uhura put her arm around Jim’s shoulders.

“Up you get, Soldier,” she said good-naturedly. Jim hopped off the bench and straightened, her arm slipping off his shoulders.

“And you know… Be careful, Jim,” she said. “That’s gonna be a whole world of hurt.”

He didn’t know if she meant his face or if she was talking about McCoy. Either way, it seemed it was too little, too late.


	6. Award

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You hid it up your sleeve. That’s not magic!” she protested, though she pocketed the quarter. Jim laughed, nodding his head slightly in agreement.
> 
> “True, you’ve caught me. But the magic trick wasn’t making the quarter disappear and reappear. The magic was that I got you to smile,” he explained.

“Wow. He really did a number on you…” Sulu commented when he came in that morning. Jim sipped his coffee glumly, trying to ignore the way his face was still twinging. He knew the kids were going to know what happened, and it was made worse by the fact that Jim had no idea what was happening in regards to it. He didn’t have McCoy’s phone number to see what had been said after he’d left.

“Heard McCoy patched you up though, which was nice of him,” Sulu continued, sitting down across from Jim and giving him a knowing look. Jim just cast him a withering glare and slumped back over his coffee.

“Oh what a beautiful morning! Oh what a-your face!”

Jim let his forehead press against the table as Chekov came in, interrupting his own stirringly Russian rendition of Oklahoma to express his dismay.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

Jim wanted nothing more than to climb into the supplies closet by lunchtime. He’d met with Pike, who had informed him that the boys had been suspended. Jim hadn’t pressed why they weren’t being expelled, he hadn’t expected Pike to actually send them elsewhere.

Every child had heard what happened and every single one of them wanted to talk about it. Jim had managed to deflect a few questions, but his lessons were shot to pieces. He had finally resorted to worksheets and textbooks and working independently because he couldn’t make his classes settle enough to do anything meaningful.

And now he was exhausted.

“Knock knock,” a familiar voice drawled from the door. Jim looked up blearily to see McCoy there. The man had two mugs of coffee in his hands and a Tupperware box tucked under his arm. Jim nodded to him and gestured for him to enter.

McCoy set the coffee down in front of Jim before he dragged one of the pupil’s lab stools over to Jim’s desk. He perched there, opening the lid of his lunchbox to reveal a rather healthy salad. The man began to shovel greenery into his mouth, observing Jim avidly as he did so.

Jim just picked up his coffee silently. He couldn’t deny he was touched by the thoughtfulness of the action, but he wished McCoy wouldn’t just sit there watching him. Not only that, he didn’t want to really think too hard about the previous day, when he’d collapsed into the man’s arms like a damsel in distress.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” McCoy asked after a moment. Jim shook his head. He’d tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable and then anxiety nightmares had stirred him whenever he’d started to doze. In the end he’d gone for a run in the dead of night, knowing it was a stupid thing to do but not caring, feet pounding the pavement as he replayed the day’s events and wondered if there had been anything _he_ could have done differently.

“I guessed as much. Maybe you should stay with a friend for a few nights until you get yourself together a bit?” McCoy suggested, crunching celery between his teeth and shrugging a little. Jim gave him a look.

“Which friend would that be? You forget, I’m new here,” he snapped. McCoy’s eyebrow rose and Jim felt childish for acting that way immediately.

“Well, you’re grouchier than me when you’re not sleeping,” he replied lightly and Jim looked down at his coffee once more, abashed.

“Look I just… It just takes one incident like this and people start to think you’re incapable,” he said, voicing a fear he hadn’t put words to yet but now he had, he could feel he ice slicing into his gut.

“Oh horse shit,” McCoy said fiercely and Jim looked up to see the other was pointing at him menacingly with a stick of celery. “You are a damn good teacher Jim. One of the best I’ve seen. I may have only known you a few months but even I can tell that. And this? This was some kids being goddamn _kids_ and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

Jim licked his lips and tried to think of a response to that. There wasn’t one he could think of. He didn’t want to sound dismissive or trite or big-headed.

“Just say ‘yes sir’,” McCoy suggested, a smirk stretching across his face. Jim ducked his head to hide the unwilling smile that had come to his face.

“Yes sir,” he replied dutifully. McCoy chuckled.

“Now drink your coffee and tell me about your day. Is it true that Uhura nearly totalled your car last night…?”

* * *

 

December saw the awards ceremonies for teachers. Recognition for a year of hard work in the school. Jim felt a little out of his depth when Spock handed him the _honour_ of picking someone from the science department.

For a few hours, Jim toyed with the idea of awarding it to Spock just to have an easy life. The other’s lessons were technically brilliant, after all, but then he began to actually think about it. Chekov’s enthusiasm and puppy-dog attitude that kept him bouncing back over and over again. Sulu’s easy-going bond with his classes that allowed him to do more practical work in biology lessons than Jim had seen in any other school. Scotty’s passion for creating things that made his lessons shine through the cloud of smoke that was usually pouring from his windows.

And McCoy.

McCoy who hadn’t backtracked. Who had kept pushing forward. McCoy who though sometimes did have lessons where a pin could be heard drop, could now also be heard laughing and rumbling through lessons with good humour and happy, active students.

Jim had gone to Uhura in the end. He’d walked into her classroom, ignored the stares of all the students on him as he walked forward and stood in front of her desk.

“Is it favouritism if I give the teaching award for science to Bones?” he asked bluntly. Uhura looked at him.

“Absolutely,” she replied, her voice calm and even. Jim nodded.

“You’re still going to give it to him, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yep,” Jim replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” she said with a small smile and then turned back to what she’d been doing. That day Jim had submitted his nomination, with the reasoning, to Pike and walked out of the building feeling strangely guilt free about it.

And really, McCoy had improved significantly. It wasn’t just… just Jim’s crush that was making him do it.

And the next morning, when he told Spock the choice he’d made, he was rewarded with one of the rare half-smiles that Spock was capable of and a curt nod.

“A logical and sound choice, Jim,” he had said. Jim guessed if _Spock_ thought it was okay, then it really was.

* * *

 

It was three weeks before the end of term that the awards ceremony was called. After all the students had got home, with the cold December air pressing into the halls from all sides. All staff were expected to attend, though some still sneaked away if they thought they weren’t getting anything. The Christmas Party was the week after and Jim couldn’t wait for that particular festive get together. From what he could gather, it would be prime time to get _all_ the gossip on _everyone_.

He slid into the uncomfortable chairs in the auditorium, sitting between Uhura and Scotty with a grin. He leaned back as Pike took the stage and started reeling off his speech. The awards were given out slowly, with each person being able to say thank you for it. Jim would have found it all rather grating if he hadn’t been kind of excited for McCoy to receive his.

“Ah yes, the Science Department’s award… Well this one has been awarded for not only the quality of teaching, but also for the great improvement and dedication made over the last few months. The award is for Leonard McCoy,” Pike said. There was a smattering of applause. Outside the Science Department, McCoy wasn’t especially well-known, having mostly kept to himself. Those that knew him though, were clapping hard.

The clapping died out and Jim glanced around.

“Where’s Bones?” he whispered to Uhura, but she was looking around.

“Leonard, you here?” Pike asked. Jim made a split second decision and leapt to his feet.

“I-I’ll take it for him,” he said, squeezing passed Scotty and heading up to the stage. _Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do, he had to go hang around that goddamn elementary school tonight_? _Like it couldn’t have waited?_

“Where’s McCoy?” Pike hissed when Jim came onto the stage, being careful to turn his face away from the microphone so it wouldn’t pick it up. Jim gave him a smile that was all bravado and little substance.

“He was taken ill. Sorry, forgot to mention it,” he said and then took the nice shield from Pike’s hands.

He didn’t hang around to give a speech and instead of heading back to his seat he headed straight out the back doors. He knew where McCoy was, though god knew why the other was there. And damnit, he was going to give Bones this award if it _killed_ him to get there.

He opened his car, flinging the award onto the passenger seat and pulled out of the parking lot. He’d only ever driven the route once, when shadowing McCoy before, but it turned out he remembered the way pretty well. He had to drive carefully and by the time he got to the school, he couldn’t make out if McCoy’s car was parked there or not.

He pulled up, grabbing the shield and getting out of the car. He glanced around, trying to see if he could see the dark-haired man in the sea of parents and children that were surrounding the school gates.

“Have you lost someone?”

Jim turned. A beautiful woman in her late thirties stood there. Her blonde hair was carefully coiffed into a perfect up-do, her make-up painted onto a dainty, doll-like face that would have made her look much younger were it not for the lines around her eyes. She held a little girl’s hand who was as dark as her mother was light, deep brown curls falling around her hazel eyes as it escaped from her pigtails.

“Ah, yeah. A man. About the same height as me. A little broader across the shoulder. Dark hair, kind of… tanned-ish complexion?” Jim prompted, eyes still scanning the crowd. The woman frowned and Jim realised he could have described anyone.

“He drives some shoddy blue family car. Georgia accent,” Jim continued, wondering if any of this information was at all helpful. The woman’s frown seemed to be getting deeper though.

“Um… kind of handsome in that kind of… unshaven way?” Jim prompted, wishing he could stop talking. The little girl fidgeted for a moment then gasped, pulling out of her mom’s grasp and running straight into the road.

Jim made to grab her, but she was faster than she looked. He turned quickly, ready to follow her and scoop her out of harm’s way, but someone else had already got to her, scooping her up and hugging her close to his chest.

“Joanna, you’re never, ever to run into the road ever again, do you understand me?” the man was drawling and Jim realised with a start that it was _McCoy_ who was striding towards him. The little girl had buried her face in his neck and was clinging on as though she hadn’t seen him in years and Jim looked between McCoy and the blonde woman as everything started to fit together in his head.

This was… this was the ex-wife. And that was McCoy’s daughter. McCoy had been coming here every day to watch his daughter get picked up from school. And Jim had… _Oh Christ._

“I told you, Leonard, if you want to up your contact, you’ve got to go through your lawyers,” the woman snapped, reaching out both of her arms as though to take Joanna from McCoy’s grasp. Jim took a step backwards, which drew McCoy’s attention to him briefly. Joanna squirmed in her father’s grasp but only latched on tighter to his neck.

“Oh look what you’ve done now! Now I’m the bad guy _again_ for taking her away!” The woman’s voice became shriller as she lowered her arms, giving McCoy a fierce glare. McCoy murmured something into Joanna’s ear and she loosened her grip enough for him to put her down, but she still stood by her father’s legs, looking up at him as though he were the world.

“Look, I just wanted to see her, alright? I wasn’t going to get out of the car-“

“You shouldn’t even be here, Leo! That’s what no contact _means_. It means none. Not one weekend. Not one hour. Not one minute!”

Joanna put her hands over her ears and Jim wondered if he could join her. No kid deserved to hear their parents talking like that. He knelt down, tapping her on the shoulder. Maybe if he could just distract her for a moment.

She turned to him, eyes wide, and Jim could see McCoy in her now. Sure, she had her mother’s femininity, but her father’s eyes and mouth. Her gaze was about to slide back to her arguing parents when Jim drew a quarter from his pocket.

“Look, see this?” he said, holding it up. She watched. Jim clapped and she jumped a little. He held up his hands to show the quarter was ‘gone’. She frowned a little and Jim had to stop himself from melting because it was the spitting image of her father’s trademarked scowl. He reached forward, just behind her ear, and pulled out the quarter, showing it to her again.

She smiled thinly, but it was still a smile.

“You hid it up your sleeve. That’s not magic!” she protested, though she pocketed the quarter. Jim laughed, nodding his head slightly in agreement.

“True, you’ve caught me. But the magic trick wasn’t making the quarter disappear and reappear. The magic was that I got you to smile,” he explained. Joanna was frowning again, as though she didn’t quite get it, but McCoy and his ex-wife had quietened and were staring at him. He straightened up, waving at Joanna.

“I think your mom’s ready to go now, kiddo,” he said. Joanna looked between her mother and father and then hesitantly took her mother’s hand.

“I don’t want to see you here again, Leonard. Not unless you’ve got a 30 day chip stapled to your forehead. Do you understand me?” The woman said and she didn’t even wait for a response before picking up Joanna and marching off down the sidewalk.

Jim froze, realising that he’d just intruded on something he should never have been part of. He should never had followed McCoy here in the first place. Should never have come here today. He had learned more than McCoy had wanted him or anyone at work to know and he’d screwed things up for the other pretty royally.

McCoy turned to him and Jim was expecting to see anger. Instead he just saw bone-deep weariness that seemed to ooze from McCoy’s very core.

“Why’re you here Jim?” he asked. Jim held out the trophy wordlessly. It seemed stupid, insignificant in the weight of everything that had just happened. McCoy took it, staring down at the award with a blank expression.

“They spelled McCoy wrong. They’ve spelled it with an a,” McCoy said after a moment. Jim leaned forward and sure enough, somehow ‘MacCoy’ had slipped through the hundred proofings and got onto the shield’s engraving. Jim squirmed.

This wasn’t…

Oh hell. The road to hell was paved with good intentions.

“I just wanted to make sure you got it,” he said, feeling lame as he felt the words pass through his lips. McCoy nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, though he didn’t sound grateful, more hollow than anything. Jim nodded. He took a small step backwards.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at work,” he said. McCoy grunted in response and Jim didn’t care if it was childish or cowardly, he bolted, getting into his car and pulling away before he even put his seatbelt on. As he drove home, Louis Armstrong crooned at him that it was a wonderful world.

* * *

 

Leonard got home and put the shield down on the coffee table, staring at it for a moment.

“Oh Len, you’re home? That’s good. Go upstairs and see to your father, will you? He’s refusing his medication _again_ ,” his mother greeted him. He nodded, taking off his coat and draping it over the bannister. She didn’t question his quietness, she didn’t notice the award, she didn’t offer him a drink or ask him about his day.

Leonard just climbed the stairs to the deathly quiet of upstairs and wished the day was over already.


	7. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all you have done since August, thank you.

They didn’t talk about it.

McCoy didn’t say anything and Jim purposefully didn’t bring it up. They continued exactly the same as before, sitting together in the mornings, sharing coffee and the occasional lunch break and they avoided all talk of family and the award.

It drove Jim absolutely _insane_.

Finally he cracked. He needed to talk to _someone_ about it. As the weeks wore on it ate away at him. Should he apologise again? Should he offer to be an ear to talk to? Should he leave it alone as McCoy clearly wanted him to?

He finally cracked one night in science club. He and Spock were supervising the students as they dissected a sheep’s eyeball and as the noise level increased with ‘ews’ and ‘cools’ and ‘gross’ he leaned in to Spock, keeping his voice low.

“I’ve got something I need to talk to you about but… it’s like half-personal, half-professional,” Jim said. Spock looked at him, face perfectly blank.

“If it is affecting your performance at work, or the performance of others, I believe it is wise that you share your problems. I am sure that having a confidant would give you a measure of peace,” he said. Jim was more than used to Spock’s bizarre way of speaking by now, though he still sometimes got lost in the words. He guessed that translated as ‘Sure, shoot’ for anyone else and plunged on.

“I, er, I followed Bones after school one day,” he admitted. Spock’s eyebrow rose and Jim put his hands up. “I was curious where he ran off to! Anyway I found he goes to this elementary school a short drive away. In any case I… The awards ceremony…”

“You realised where Doctor McCoy would be and drove over to deliver the award,” Spock surmised. Jim realised that Spock had _always_ referred to McCoy as a doctor and wondered how he’d missed that oversight to be so surprised the previous month by it.

“Yeah. And when I got there… I ran into this woman and her kid. Was asking them for help finding him and… it was his ex-wife and daughter. They started arguing pretty bad and it seems that Bones wasn’t supposed to be there and he had only revealed himself because I turned up. I gave him the award and ran and since then he hasn’t mentioned it…” Jim looked away from Spock’s face, aware that the other probably saw too much in his expression at that moment. Spock was perceptive like that.

“I see. It appears Doctor McCoy has decided not to discuss it with you and maintain a professional boundary. Is this what has upset you, Jim?” Spock asked. Jim was surprised to hear the other use his name instead of the usual ‘Mr Kirk’ but he guessed that Spock was aware that this was far from a conversation between colleagues.

“I… I don’t know. Like… I thought we were becoming friends? And I don’t know why he wants to pretend it didn’t happen, you know? It’s not like I wouldn’t listen and sympathise?” Jim ran a hand through his hair, aware he sounded like a child whining.

“Doctor McCoy’s divorce occurred during his second year of teaching here. It was my first. He was a brilliant teacher and one that I greatly admired. He was to become head of department instead of myself, I believe. However, the divorce caused him great pain. He was suspended from work for a brief period around that time, though it is not my place to say why. When he returned, he was not the same. He shared nothing of his life and withdrew into himself. It is only since you have come, Jim, that he has begun to show the brilliance he was once capable of,” Spock said, his tone careful and level. Jim blinked and looked at the other. Spock was watching the class, though his eyes slid to the side.

“He did not attend briefings in the morning, he did not spend time outside his classroom with anyone. His lessons were often poor. The Headmaster did not want to fire him, however, because of the great potential he possessed. A potential that I believe your friendship and kindness has brought out in him,” Spock did turn to Jim then, holding the other’s gaze.

“When Doctor McCoy is ready to talk about the incident, I have no doubt he will seek you out to do so, Jim. Until then, I would advise you to allow the matter to rest,” he finished.

Jim felt his heart swell warmly.

So McCoy wasn’t going to talk about it, but it didn’t matter, because when he did, Jim knew that he was going to be the one that Bones came to. And that was more important than his curiosity for now.

* * *

 

“I really can’t stay.”

“But baby it’s cold outside.”

“I’ve got to go away.”

Jim put his head in his hands. Chekov and Sulu had been performing various Christmas numbers over the last few days but this one was perhaps the most startling rendition, complete with Chekov mock-coyly moving to the door and Sulu grabbing his hand to pull him back. Uhura was actually _giggling_ , which was something Jim wasn’t sure he’d heard before and was almost certainly a sign that everyone had gone Christmas _mad_.

“Ah, baby, it’s col- Oh hey there McCoy!” Sulu broke the song to move out of the way of the door as McCoy walked in. The doctor’s eyebrow took a life of its own as he side stepped a struggling Chekov and made his way to the counter to make coffee.

“Yesterday it was ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’. Is there something you two aren’t telling us?” McCoy asked, not even bothering to look at them as he pulled his mug out of the cupboard and filled it to the brim. Jim grinned a little.

“Vat can I say? Me and Hikaru are eloping ower Christmas!” Chekov replied, pulling a Santa hat out of his pocket and moving over to McCoy, pulling it over his head with a chuckle. Jim felt something warm spread through his chest as he saw McCoy roll his eyes. Still, he didn’t remove the hat, just sitting down.

“It’s the Christmas Party tonight. That’s why they’re giddy like children. Are you coming, Leonard?” Uhura asked. Jim’s ears pricked up. McCoy hadn’t come to a single night out so far that year, so Jim hadn’t really thought that he’d attend, but Uhura was looking at the man intently. McCoy appeared to be squirming.

“I was… planning to put in a brief appearance,” he said. Jim couldn’t help the grin that broke across his face and hoped that no one else noticed it.

“Great Bones! We’ll get wasted from the corner and place bets on who is going to have to make out with who!” Jim said, getting to his feet to pour himself more coffee. McCoy made a grunt that may have been agreement or not, Jim didn’t care. He suddenly had a reason to dress at least a little bit better for the party that night.

“Feeeeeed the woooooooooorld! Let them know it’s Christmas tiiiiiiiiime!”

Jim began to rub his temples.

* * *

 

Jim slid into the seat at a table that was groaning under the weight of Christmas decorations, food and mulled wine. Around him were all the usual suspects, Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov, but also unusually Spock and an empty seat that would have housed McCoy. Who appeared to have not turned up regardless.

Jim helped himself to the mulled wine and sipped it while he looked around. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, even if they looked rather tired from the week at work. The women were dressed in ways he’d never seen them before. Janice Rand had forgone her usual suit for a beautiful deep blue dress that skimmed her figure perfectly. She kept sending him longing looks from the office staff table which he was pointedly ignoring.

Of course, the belle of the ball was still Uhura. Her red dress clung to her form tightly, leaving relatively little to the imagination. Even so, it was long enough to be classy and her graceful poise meant that she avoided looking ‘tacky’. Jim found himself giving her more of an appreciative glance over the course of the evening.

“So, what are yeh plans for Christmas holidays?” Scotty asked, downing yet another glass of mulled wine. He had emptied a jug to himself and his nose was decidedly red.

“Are you going to visit your family Jim?” Sulu asked, hastily moving the last jug of mulled wine away from Scotty’s reach and topping up Chekov’s glass as he did so.

“Oh, no. I haven’t been welcome back home since my step-father caught me making out with Gary Mitchell during Spring Break of Freshmen year,” Jim replied, shrugging. There was a pause around the table before Sulu started laughing and the tension eased.

“That’s… got to be the most casual way to out yourself I’ve ever…” Sulu descended into fits of laughter and Jim just shrugged.

“Wait, if you’re gay, why have you been hitting on me non-stop since you started?” Uhura asked, turning to him suddenly. Jim shrugged, taking a sip of his wine.

“Sexuality isn’t a line from gay to straight. There are wiggly bits in the middle. I just so happen to wiggle around a bit,” he replied. Uhura rolled her eyes but Jim saw her relax slightly. Glancing around the table he couldn’t see anyone looking outright disgusted. He supposed that they had taken it pretty well then. He didn’t have to hide it from these people.

“So you’re not going home. Does that mean you’re spending Christmas alone?” Sulu looked a little alarmed at the thought. At that moment though, the empty seat next to Jim was taken. Jim looked up to see McCoy there.

And damn, he scrubbed up well.

Clean shaven, with his hair neatly waxed. His top two shirt buttons were undone, allowing Jim to take in the expanse of throat and collarbone that made him want to… He closed his eyes and pushed the thoughts away, leaning for his wine and trying to ignore the way his heart was hammering in his chest.

“Sorry I’m late, guys. I had an emergency at home,” McCoy said, sitting down and helping himself to roast potatoes and honey roasted vegetables. Jim leaned back to pass him the slices of roast beef and turkey.

“Quite understandable Doctor McCoy. We were just discussing Jim’s plans for Christmas and why he can’t-“ Spock’s mouth shut when Jim kicked him under the table. His head of department raised an eyebrow at him and Jim turned to see it was mirrored on McCoy’s face as well.

“I’m going to guess that whatever you were discussing isn’t for me to hear,” McCoy replied before spearing a potato. Chekov went to pour him some mulled wine but McCoy shook his head, gesturing to the water instead. Jim cast a helpless look to Uhura who rolled her eyes but took pity on him.

“I’m going back to Kenya for a week to visit my father,” she began and Jim didn’t have to feign interest in order to get caught up in Uhura’s stories of an African Christmas and her plans for the journey.

Jim didn’t look at McCoy for the rest of the dinner, but Sulu was making it pretty damn obvious by looking between them at least once every three minutes and Chekov was whispering in his ear a hell of a lot. Jim wanted the ground to swallow him up. Was it really that obvious?

“I think I’m going to go,” McCoy said suddenly, standing up. Jim turned in his chair, looking up at the other with wide eyes. It was true he hadn’t really spoken to McCoy but he hadn’t expected the other to eat and run.

“It’s only nine! Stay a while Bones!” he said, trying to plaster a grin on his face as he did so. McCoy shook his head and gave Uhura a significant glance.

“I think I’ve stayed long enough not to be a social pariah. I’ll see you at work on Monday,” he said and turned, leaving without saying goodbye to anyone else. Jim bit his lip, watching McCoy’s retreating back through the room. At the door Christine Chapel rose to talk to him. They talked for a while. Christine rested her hand on McCoy’s chest briefly before McCoy stepped away and big her farewell.

Jim scowled and turned back to his wine, downing the dregs and pouring himself more.

“Stop being so damn obvious,” Uhura hissed. Jim tried not to be, but he was pretty sure every single person on the table already knew that he was head over heels for Doctor McCoy.

* * *

 

The last week of term dragged. Jim showed ‘Elf’ enough times that he could quote it word for word while his classroom looked like a glitterbomb had exploded in it from the amount of tinsel he’d put  up. Even so, nothing much cheered him up.

McCoy was… ignoring him. He’d gone from not speaking about what happened after the Awards Evening to not speaking at all. Jim didn’t know what to say, what to do, and Uhura was no help on the matter either. She seemed to know something, but when pressed she claimed absolute ignorance. It was infuriating.

It wasn’t until the last day of term that Jim finally lost it. He went round the department, handing out gifts. Cheap bottles of wine just to say thank you for hard work, nothing major, but it was something at least. Most members of staff had accepted them graciously, but McCoy refused to accept his.

“No, Jim, I can’t,” he had said, putting both hands up like Jim was pointing a gun at him rather than a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

“I bought everyone just the same. Take it,” Jim said, pushing the gift wrapped bottle towards McCoy. The doctor looked distinctly uncomfortable as his hands wrapped around the top of the bottle and he immediately put it on his desk, as though touching it would burn him.

“There, happy?” McCoy snapped. Jim scowled.

“What’s with you? You’ve been off with me ever since… ever since that damn award! And then it only got worse after the Christmas party! I don’t know what I’ve done wrong!” Jim was aware his voice was getting louder and was grateful he’d remembered to shut the door behind him when he’d entered McCoy’s classroom. The other looked trapped and he backed up a step, the back of his legs hitting his chair.

“Jim, you haven’t done anything wrong-“

“Really, McCoy? Then why are you giving me the silent treatment and acting like I don’t exist? If I’ve offended you at least let me know so I can apologise!” Jim interrupted. McCoy’s face was drained of colour and his eyes were darting to the door.

“Stop looking like I’m going to hit you or something and answer me!” Jim knew his voice sounded a little desperate and he knew he’d crossed a line as well. Somewhere along the way, he’d become too emotionally invested in this one-sided crush of his. He’d become too dependent on something that he knew was never going to go anywhere. McCoy was straight. Had a kid, had a wife, not interested kind of straight. And here Jim was going full drama queen on him.

“I don’t know what to say,” McCoy said finally. “Just… leave it Jim. It’s not the time to talk about this. Merry Christmas.”

Jim knew well enough a ‘fuck off’ in politer terms when he heard one. He stormed out of the classroom, slamming the door loud enough that further down the hall way Chekov peered out of his classroom to see what the fuss was about. Fuming he decided to go hide in the reprographics room for the rest of the day. At least then he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.

* * *

 

Jim finally finished sulking an hour after the bell went. The school was pretty much entirely deserted and he nodded to the cleaners as he passed them. He’d collect his stuff and go. Look forward to his depressing and lonely Christmas and perhaps watching ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ on the television while examining the life choices that had led him to that moment.

He stepped into his classroom to find someone had turned the lights on for the small Christmas tree he’d put in the corner. He walked over to it to turn them off. No point in wasting power over the Christmas period. When he came to it though, he saw that there was a present beneath it.

It was wrapped clumsily, the mark of someone unpractised in the art of gift wrapping and the paper was fairly generic holly printed. There was a card stuck on top of it, ‘Jim’ written in an untidy scrawl. Jim felt his heart go to his mouth when he recognised it.

It was McCoy’s writing.

He took the card, opening it. On the front was a traditional Christmas scene and the card was thin and inexpensive. He opened the card and stared at the message within. It wasn’t signed, it didn’t have any sentimental messages about Christmas. Instead it had a simple phrase.

 _For all you have done since August, thank you_.

Jim swallowed, looking out to the parking lot. McCoy’s car was long gone. He picked up the small but heavy package and turned, turning off the Christmas lights and tucking it into his briefcase. He put the card into his pocket, finding the smile spreading across his features. He’d open the gift on his birthday, seeing as that would be over the Christmas break.

Suddenly the holidays didn’t feel so lonely.


	8. Birthdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You been checkin’ me out McCoy?” he asked before his brain screeched to a halt. The flirting had been out of his mouth before he could even stop them. He must have looked panicked because McCoy started to laugh, genuinely laugh from his stomach. Jim couldn’t help but laugh too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Played with the holidays to make them long enough to suit the story sorrynotsorry.

Jim sat in front of the television, a glass of Scotch laying before him and the bottle at hand. In less than half an hour there would be the minute’s silence marking the moment his father had died. He had arranged his birthday presents on the couch beside him, already having opened all but one in messily wrapped Christmas paper. He didn’t know why he hadn’t opened McCoy’s present on Christmas day, or why he hadn’t opened it already and had left it until last.

He sipped his scotch and watched as the newscaster on the rolling news channel talked over shots of the memorial and the military parade. Every year it was the same sentiments, similar footage, the recording of his father’s last words played over sombre music, but he let it all wash over him, the familiar numbness sinking into his bones.

There was a sudden insistent ringing that made him start. He put the glass down, wondering how quickly he could get rid of the salesman.

He dragged himself to the door, kicking his sneakers out of the way as he peered into the peephole. His eyes widened and he took the chain off the door, opening it quickly.

Nyota Uhura stood there, a bottle of Captain Morgan’s rum in one hand and a card in the other. She smiled brightly at him, though she looked a little tired. She was probably still suffering from jet lag from her trip to Kenya. Jim swallowed and plastered a false smile on his face.

“Miss Uhura, to what do I owe this honour?” he asked, stepping aside to let her in. Uhura gave him a smile and stepped inside.

“Well, I heard that a certain physics teacher was spending Christmas alone, so I called in a favour with Janice and got a sneaky look at his files to see where he lived, only to find out his birthday was in the holidays too, so I figured I’d make a trip,” Uhura said, removing her shoes with one hand as she balanced on one foot. Jim steadied her with a hand to her elbow, feeling somewhat awkward as he did so.

“So you violated various laws and my privacy to come over?” Jim asked. Uhura beamed at him.

“I’m glad you’re so intelligent, Jim. It’s one of your finest qualities,” she said, before brushing into his lounge. Jim looked down at her shoes. They were new. Probably presents from her parents. He followed her into the lounge to see her eyeing up his Scotch.

“Want a drink?” he offered, going over to his liquor cabinet and bringing back a tumbler. Uhura poured herself healthy amount of Scotch and eyed his presents.

“That’s a healthy supply of socks,” she commented. Jim shrugged, sitting down and picking up his tumbler, his eyes locking on the television.

“Standard go-to present when you have no clue what to get someone. Everyone except my brother gets me socks or ties every year. I got ties for Christmas, so birthday was socks,” he said, shrugging. Uhura frowned and leaned forward. Her hand wrapped around McCoy’s present.

“This one isn’t opened yet? Why not?” she asked, weighing it up. “It’s definitely not socks.”

Jim sipped his Scotch. “It’s from Bones. If I open it and it’s some other thoughtless gift, I think I’ll go insane,” he explained. Uhura raised an eyebrow and her lips twitched upwards slightly.

“Jim, are you saying you haven’t opened this because you’re worried it will reveal that Leonard’s still annoyed at you?” she asked. Jim shrugged.

“I also needed to save it for today. I just… I don’t like my birthday much,” he said. Uhura clucked her tongue, taking a sip of the Scotch and wincing slightly.

“Well, this is cheap stuff. You could have at least warned me,” she said, reaching forward to put the glass down and looking at the television to see what had distracted Jim’s attention.

“Well no wonder if you watch the memorial all day. We should switch it onto a movie or something more cheerful,” she said, reaching for the remote. Jim put his hand on hers as she touched it, causing her to pause. She looked up at him.

“It’s my father’s memorial day, Uhura. That’s why I don’t tell anyone about my birthday, it’s why I don’t have anywhere to go at Christmas and it’s probably the root cause of having enough socks to wear a different pair every day for a month,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and calm, even though it broke a little towards the end. Uhura’s eyes were wide and she withdrew her hand.

They sat there for a few moments, staring at the television screen before Uhura picked up the Scotch and downed it in one smooth motion before pouring herself another and topping up Jim’s glass.

When the names began to be read out, Uhura put her hand on Jim’s knee. They drank silently as the names were read out, finally getting to ‘Captain George Kirk’. Jim felt Uhura squeeze his knee gently.

“To George Kirk,” she murmured, and sipped her drink. Jim mimicked her, swallowing past a lump in his throat. It had been years since anyone had spent this day, this moment, with him. He found himself suddenly grateful for her company, for the warm weight of her hand on his leg, for the soft floral scent of her perfume, for the kind patience in her eyes.

“I think I’ll open that gift now,” he said. Uhura nodded and leaned to pick up McCoy’s present, handing it to Jim and watching curiously. Jim carefully peeled away the wrapping.

Inside was a book. The cover was simple, white with rainbow writing across it. ‘The Quantum Universe: Everything That Can Happen Does Happen’. He slipped open the front cover and was surprised to find the front page signed. He traced his fingers over the pen marks carefully.

“Oh wow. I’m not even a science geek, and I know that is a gift and a half,” Uhura breathed. Jim nodded, his throat feeling tighter than it had before. He closed to book, staring at the front cover. The numbness was receding, being replaced by warmth.

“You know… we should go for a meal. Just something casual and homely or something. My treat,” Jim decided, glancing up at Uhura. She smiled, her teeth showing through how wide it was.

“Okay but you’ve got to shave first,” Uhura bargained. Jim laughed and rubbed at his chin.

“Deal.”

* * *

 

“Yay! It’s the first day and we’re so happy to see you Mr Kirk! And did you have a nice holiday? Why yes I did thank you for asking dear student! It was very relaxing and I made a snowman only I didn’t because Georgia doesn’t even get cold enough for snow-“ Jim muttered to himself sarcastically as he waited for his first class of the new year to quieten.

He finally got quiet and was about to start teaching when Nyota slipped into the room. After their meal together on his birthday, they’d exchanged numbers and emails, keeping in contact the last few days of the holidays. Jim had been surprised to find that once he assured Nyota that he wasn’t planning on hitting on her seriously, she was surprisingly warm and open. Oh she played at being coy and cold, but underneath it all, she had a heart of gold and a will of iron.

She was clutching a post-it note in her hand.

“I did some digging and thought this might interest you,” she said, passing it to Jim. She’d drawn a grumpy face in the corner and a date. There was also a small bone. Jim immediately knew what it was.

“That’s not long away,” he commented, aware that his class were talking to each other again, but guessing that they could get away with it for a bit. This was important too, although in a different way.

“That’s what I thought. 20th January though. Janice double checked for me because I wasn’t one hundred percent sure,” she said, sweeping her ponytail over her shoulder. Jim licked his lips, looking down at the note.

“Miss Uhura… If I write down a list of things that need doing, you think you can get round to everyone in the department to organise something?” he asked. Uhura tapped her chin.

“Oh, I’m sure it can be arranged.”

* * *

 

“Hey Bones!” Jim ducked his head through the door. McCoy looked up from his desk, a scowl on his face. Jim wasn’t sure if he was overanalysing things, but he was sure that his expression softened when he saw it was Jim. Jim took that as permission to enter.

“Thanks for the book, man. No idea how you got it signed. Did you get it shipped over from England?” Jim asked, walking across the classroom with a grin on his face. McCoy actually smiled then.

“I’m glad you liked it. I got Scotty to chase it down for me. He has… geek links,” McCoy said with a shrug. Jim felt a sensation in his stomach that felt like furry caterpillars throwing a party. He folded his arms to have something to do with his hands.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” Jim asked, searching for a safe topic. He realised when McCoy’s scowl returned that he hadn’t managed it. The doctor didn’t meet his eyes, instead reaching to shuffle papers on his desk.

“I ate a lot,” he replied. A non-committal answer that had nothing to do with feelings or events. Jim wondered if he was supposed to press the issue or leave it. He nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment before deciding to leave it.

“Tell me about it. Christmas is just chocolate and booze and more chocolate. I swear when January 1st rolled round, I was twenty pounds heavier,” Jim joked. McCoy gave him a look that clearly questioned his sanity.

“You haven’t got an ounce of fat on you, Jim,” McCoy said. Jim grinned.

“You been checkin’ me out McCoy?” he asked before his brain screeched to a halt. The flirting had been out of his mouth before he could even stop them. He must have looked panicked because McCoy started to laugh, genuinely laugh from his stomach. Jim couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Is it really so amusing to think you might have let your eye wander over my clearly wonderful body?” Jim asked, trying to keep the tone light. McCoy put his hand to his mouth as though to wipe the last of his smile away.

“No, what’s amusing is that you’ll say that to everyone else in the department nearly every day without so much as a by-your-leave and yet you say it to me once and you look like I’m going to burst into homophobic tears,” McCoy replied, raising an eyebrow, amusement still dancing in his eyes. Jim licked his lips.

“I get it. I’m older than the rest of you. But I’ll let you into a little secret Jim, you’re not the first man to have hit on me and I’m sure I’ll survive your complete lack of censorship,” he said and he looked away. Jim was almost sure that there was a hint of pink creeping up the back of his neck but then it was gone and Jim wondered if he’d seen it at all.

“Um,” he managed to say. McCoy looked up at him, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Happy New Year Jim. Now I have a class to teach in five so if you don’t mind taking your… what was it…? ‘Wonderful body’ elsewhere?” McCoy said pointedly. Jim opened his mouth, closed it, and just nodded as he left.

What.

The.

Fuck.

* * *

 

Jim balanced another pack of balloons onto his overcrowded arms, steadying it with his chin. He’d got banners, balloons, plastic cups, a whole host of tissue paper decorations, and now he just had to negotiate his way to the cashier without falling over. He turned, his attention completely taken up with making it from A to B without something slipping from his grasp.

“Mom! Mom it’s the magic man!”

Jim frowned. He recognised the voice. He turned, lost the battle with the decorations and sighed as half his items spilled to the floor. He crouched down to pick it up and was surprised to find a little girl crouched down picking things up too.

“Joanna?” he asked, taking in the dark haired little girl who was beaming at him. He looked up to see her mother was stood there, looking just as surprised as he was. He retrieved his items, standing and trying to get them into some semblance of order in his arms.

“You’re Joanna’s mom, right? I don’t think I introduced myself last time we met. Jim Kirk. I work with Bo-Leonard,” he introduced himself. The woman nodded and took Joanna’s hand. The girl was looking up at Jim, eyes fixed on the mountain of brightly coloured miscellany in his arms.

“Jocelyn Treadway,” she replied, her tone sounding a little clipped. Jim nodded.

“Are those for my Daddy? Because it’s his birthday next week. That’s why Mommy took me shopping,” Joanna said suddenly. Jim blinked a little then smiled as a plan formed in his head. Maybe McCoy wouldn’t want him to meddle, but Jim couldn’t think of a better present than this one if he could pull it off.

“Yep. We’re having a surprise party at the school for your dad,” he said, winking. Joanna’s eyes went wide and she immediately looked up at her mother who had started scowling.

“I like parties,” Joanna said, though she was still looking at her mother Jim knew the comment was directed towards him. “Will there be birthday cake?”

“Yeah, I think so. I heard that our other biology teacher Mr Sulu is going to bake a big chocolate one,” Jim replied. Jocelyn seemed to get where it was going but it was too late to stop him. “You and your mom are welcome to come if you want to?”

Jocelyn made a noise that Jim guessed was frustration but Joanna let out a delighted gasp. Jim tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, aware that he could be potentially making a massive error in judgment here.

“Can we go Mommy? Please? I can give Daddy his present in person then instead of posting it!” Joanna said excitedly. Jocelyn bit her lip and then knelt down so she was on eye level with Joanna.

“Joanna sweetie, why don’t you pick out a card for your daddy now while I talk to… Jim?” she said his name like it was a curse word. Jim felt something squirm in his stomach that felt a little like nerves. Joanna nodded and trotted a few feet away to the cards that were marked ‘Dad’ and began to carefully read the front of each card, mouthing out the letters silently as she read.

“You know, I’m sure, that Leonard has no contact with Joanna. I don’t know if you know _why_ ,” she said, her gaze piercing. Jim shook his head.

“I don’t know and I don’t think it’s your place to tell me. All I know is that Bones is a good man and he deserves to see his daughter on his birthday,” he replied. Jocelyn looked away.

“He _is_ a good man. I know that. But there are reasons why he isn’t a good _father_. I know he’s your friend, but you’re meddling where you shouldn’t,” she said, her voice soft, wistful, sorrowful. Jim wondered if she had regrets. He glanced at Joanna, who had picked up a ‘Happy Birthday to The Best Dad in The World!’ card.

“Can it hurt for a few hours?” Jim asked. Jocelyn folded her arms, still refusing to meet his eyes. He saw her gaze drift to Joanna as well. She was silent for a minute and Jim felt his heart in his throat.

“There will have to be rules,” Jocelyn said finally. Jim breathed a sigh of relief and nodded eagerly.

“Understandable,” he said. Jocelyn rubbed her forehead, as though she couldn’t believe she’d given in that easily.

“There’s to be no alcohol. At all. I’ll drop her off at the school for an hour from four until five, but then she’s going to leave with no excuses. And she doesn’t leave the school,” Jocelyn’s voice was firmer now as she laid down the ground rules. Jim could feel his jaw tensing as he clenched it hard.

“Four until five thirty,” he bargained. Jocelyn looked up at him, her face surprised, until it relaxed and her mouth thinned before she nodded.

“You care a lot for Leonard,” she said. Jim shrugged his shoulders as much as he could with his arms full. Jocelyn tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to see… someone looking after him for a change.”

Jim didn’t know what to say to that. Joanna saved him from responding by running back, a card clutched in her hand with a giant teddy bear on the front and the words ‘Dad’ written in glitter.

“I’ll see you at four on the 20th. I’ll drop Joanna off at reception,” Jocelyn said. Jim saw Joanna’s face light up when she realised what had been agreed on and then the girl began babbling about the card. Jocelyn’s attention was completely on her daughter, though there was a line of tension along her spine that hadn’t been there before. She took Joanna’s hand.

“Mr Kirk,” she said, nodding before leading Joanna away. Jim breathed deeply once she was out of ear shot and waited until they’d paid before making his way to the counter. It had been a success, one that hopefully McCoy would love, but he had a feeling he’d just gone way further than any friend was supposed to.

* * *

 

“Jim get out of the way,” McCoy said exasperatedly. Jim shook his head, refusing to move from the doorway. McCoy reached forward to grab his shoulder in an attempt to move him away. Jim remained firm though, planting his feet on the floor.

“Not a chance. You’re just going to go to the school and mope outside. You can come to the staff room and get your present,” Jim insisted. McCoy frowned at him.

“So you know it’s my damn birthday and you’re going to stop me seeing my daughter on it?” he questioned. Jim tried to think of a response that wouldn’t give the game away. At that moment Uhura walked passed and patted his shoulder. That was the signal. Everyone was in position.

At least if McCoy would damn well cooperate.

“Look. You have a choice the way I see it. You can either subject yourself to a simple gift giving that will take a few minutes, or you can argue with me for half an hour and end up not making it over there in time. What’s it going to be?” Jim asked. McCoy growled but his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Fine. Whatever. Lead the way,” McCoy said. Jim grinned and grabbed McCoy’s elbow, pulling him down the corridor towards the Science Office. He opened the door with a sweeping gesture.

The whole office was coated in balloons and decorations. Even the photocopiers and pigeon holes had some kind of streamer hanging from them. The whole science department was in there. Sulu and Chekov yelled ‘surprise’, whereas Scotty and Uhura just cheered. Spock took McCoy’s briefcase off him when it appeared the other might use it to clobber Jim across the head with it.

McCoy was obviously about to just walk out when Uhura stepped to one side. Jim saw it, the moment when McCoy realised who it was. The way his eyes widened. The way his face seemed to instantly become younger. The way he immediately dropped to his knees, holding out his arms and Joanna ran into them, clutching at her father tightly. McCoy stayed there, his face buried in her shoulder for a few moments, before he looked up.

He met Jim’s eyes and Jim could read it there as clear as day. _Thank you._

“Now I promised Miss Joanna the best chocolate cake ever and she’s been patient enough so let’s get this show on the road!” Jim said, clapping his hands and stepping around McCoy as he hefted Joanna up into his arms, obviously reluctant to let her go.

The party passed far too quickly for Jim’s liking. Joanna stole her father’s thunder, but it didn’t seem to matter to her father. He fed her chocolate cake, carefully wiping her cheeks and hands afterwards. He made sure she had soda. He listened to her stories avidly, as though the nonsensical stories of what she did at dance class was the most interesting thing in the world. She sat on his knee the entire time.

Jim and Spock hung back, observing as nearly everyone else in the department fell in love with Joanna McCoy. Spock sipped at his fruit juice.

“You are aware that it is your responsibility to take down all these decorations in a prompt and timely manner?” Spock asked. Jim groaned.

“Couldn’t you just let me enjoy the occasion before you started reminding me of how much tidying up there is to do?” he grumbled, though it was only half-complaining. He’d stay until midnight clearing up if he could keep that smile on Bones’ face for a little while longer.

“You have done a good thing, Jim,” Spock said. “I believe that Doctor McCoy has appreciated this gift more than any other he will receive today.”

Jim glanced sideways at Spock. He knew that Spock and Uhura were close, but he wondered if Uhura might have mentioned Jim’s… unconfirmed but not exactly subtle crush. Spock’s expression was completely neutral however, as always, and Jim was left guessing.

“If it’s in my power to do it, then I’ll do it. This was something that by chance, I was able to do, so I did. I didn’t do it to… to get praise or whatever,” Jim replied shrugging. Spock finished his fruit juice.

“That is why it was a good thing,” he said simply and walked away to get more cake. Jim had been surprised to find that Spock was particularly partial to it for some reason.

He had been about to rejoin the others when the door opened. Jocelyn stood there, awkwardly. Jim glanced at the clock. It was time, almost exactly. He sighed and looked towards Bones and his daughter. Jocelyn followed his gaze and her eyes softened a little.

“If Leonard… wants to go with her to get her coat and say goodbye. I’ll wait in the parking lot,” she said. Jim nodded and Jocelyn excused herself. No one had noticed her enter or leave. Jim guessed it was his job to break the news.

“Joanna, your mom’s here to pick you up,” Jim said, cutting through chatter about how awesome the new cartoon that she was watching was. Joanna’s bottom lip stuck out and Jim could sense rebellious tears coming. It seemed that Bones did as well, because he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“Come on now, Joanna. You’ve had lots of cake and you told me yourself that you have dance class to go to tonight as well! And you’re going to have to practice really hard if you want me to come to your recital,” he reasoned. Joanna nodded sullenly. Bones got to his feet.

“Where’s Jocelyn?” he asked quietly. Jim gestured over his shoulder.

“Waiting in the parking lot for you to take her out,” he replied. McCoy nodded and left, asking Joanna which coat she’d worn so they’d be able to find it in the staff cloakroom. When the door closed a silence descended on the room.

“Poor Leonard…” Uhura finally broke the silence. Jim frowned slightly and saw Spock mirroring his expression. “To be kept away from your family must be so hard, especially a daughter. I can’t imagine how difficult it is to have to give her back at a certain time…”

“You’re looking at this wrong,” Jim said, starting to pick up plastic cups and paper plates, shoving them into a bin bag. “This was a massive step forward. Bones got to see his daughter. Not for long, but at least it was something. And Jocelyn kept to her side of the deal. I bet he’s going to see more of her from now on. It might not be joint custody, but it’s a start.”

Uhura looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. Jim didn’t know what he’d said to get that look from her so he just concentrated on putting leftovers in the fridge and tearing down the decorations.

Ten minutes later McCoy returned, opening the door and sliding inside. He was… _smiling_. A real smile. A smile that stretched from ear to ear and made him look _amazing_. Jim felt his breath catch and busied himself taking down a banner rather than making himself too obvious.

“It’s Friday, which means you guys were probably going to hit that Irish bar right?” Bones asked. Jim turned, surprised that he would ask. Scotty slung an arm around McCoy’s shoulders though.

“Tha’s right, lad. You going ta join us? Drink to one more year?” Scotty asked. In a move that had Jim floored, McCoy put his arm around Scotty’s shoulders in return and ruffled the other’s hair.

“After today? You bet I am. Lead the way, you crazy Scotsman,” McCoy said. Scotty laughed and clapped McCoy on the back as he drew away. McCoy caught Jim’s eye and nodded to him, causing Jim’s knees to feel weak. He turned to Spock, giving him his best pleading expression. Spock’s eyebrow rose.

“I believe I can finish tidying up here, if you wish to leave,” Spock said. Jim did a small dance.

“To Rí Rá!”


	9. Nevertheless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a moment. A moment with a capital M. A Moment that Jim knew was going to change him from that moment on and he couldn’t stop it. He watched as McCoy’s chest rose and fell, the soft sounds of his breathing complimented by the gentle croon of Frank Sinatra in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and fluff?

Bones was drinking bourbon.

There were a few things that Jim felt were wrong with that.

The first one was that this was an _Irish_ bar, and drinking American whisky in it was almost sacrilege. The other was that… Jocelyn had repeatedly made references to alcohol. He hadn’t really thought about it, but he remembered Bones’ reaction to Jim’s gift before Christmas, the talk of a thirty day chip. He watched as Bones took another sip, ice clinking against the glass, his voice a low rumble as he shared a story about a holiday he’d taken as a child to Vancouver.

Jim felt _uncomfortable_.

He finished his drink and stood, digging his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Another round?” he asked. Bones paused in his story while the others nodded their assent and put in their orders, before getting to his feet as well.

“I’ll give you a hand,” he said, sliding out of the booth and heading towards the bar. Jim followed, swallowing and wondering if he was brave enough to broach the subject.

They stood at the bar in silence for a moment. Jim tried to catch the eye of the barmaid a few times, but the place was busy already and Jim knew he was towards the end of the queue. He tapped his card against the bar as he waited, chewing the inside of his lip as he did so.

“So what’s eatin’ ya? You’ve been quiet as a mouse since we got here,” Bones asked suddenly. Jim cast a look sideways to see McCoy was leaning casually against the bar, looking relaxed, looking happy. He wasn’t sure if he had the heart to ask the question that might wipe that smile off his face.

“Nothing,” he replied, turning and trying to get the barmaid’s attention again. He felt a hand land on his shoulder and knew that McCoy wasn’t going to let it drop. He reluctantly allowed himself to be turned around again, knowing it was a mistake even as he did it, meeting hazel eyes that for once seemed warm without a hint of stress.

“Jim, I may have only known you a few months, but I can tell something’s botherin’ ya. Out with it,” Bones demanded and Jim felt trapped. He paused the tapping of his bank card against the bar and steeled his courage.

“I thought you were tee-total. That’s all,” he said. Not a question. Not an accusation. An observation with implications. McCoy’s eyes widened briefly before he turned his body away, leaning both elbows against the bar and staring at the shelves of liquor behind it.

“I don’t have a drinking problem,” he said firmly. Jim must have had disbelief written on his face because McCoy continued. “I know that’s what every alcoholic says, but it’s true. I don’t drink much anymore because last time I did, I did something stupid. Something that Jocelyn will never forgive me for. I… I drank a lot during the divorce, but I did stop afterwards. Now I only drink socially.”

Jim nodded. He didn’t know the specifics and even if he did, what could he really say? McCoy clearly didn’t think he had a problem and Jim only had the account of an ex-wife to call doubt on Bones’ words.

“I did a lot I’m not proud of when me and Jocelyn broke up. I wasn’t a good father. I wasn’t a good _person_ back then. In some ways, Jocelyn was completely right to stop Joanna from seeing me then. I was a mess. But I wasn’t an alcoholic, even if Jocelyn has convinced herself of it in order to justify her full custody,” McCoy explained. Jim took in his profile. The happy glint to his eyes had disappeared, a melancholic, regretful sheen replacing it. He wished he had said nothing, he wished he had hidden his own discomfort better.

“What happened?” Jim asked, wondering if McCoy wanted to talk about it. Bones sighed but instead of continuing to stare into nothing, he turned, fixing Jim with an assessing stare.

“I got raving drunk and went to Jocelyn’s mother’s house and demanded to see Joanna. When she refused, quite rightly I might add, I… did some damage to the front of the house and the car. Just kicking over a few flower pots but it was enough for them to call the police and get me suspended from work pending investigation. And destroy my custody case. It was stupid, but I was angry and hurt and… an idiot,” McCoy’s tone was sombre. Jim found himself nodding. He opened his mouth to respond but at that moment the barmaid finally made her way to them.

Jim reeled off the drinks, the whole time his mind was going over what Bones had told him. It was… understandable, in a way. Not intelligent, no. Not the right thing to do. Not an action that Jim would have thought McCoy capable of, but understandable. It explained why Jocelyn was nervous, explained why McCoy was regretful. And it was clear, to Jim at least, that McCoy understood that he was living with the consequences of his own actions.

“But things might change now,” Jim said finally as the barmaid began to pour the drinks. McCoy’s eyes widened, as though he were surprised that Jim hadn’t just called him an idiot or walked away. The surprise was quickly replaced with an expression that Jim couldn’t name, but might have been something akin to fondness. Today had been an interesting day for discovering new expressions from McCoy.

“Yeah, things just might,” he agreed. Jim smiled and patted his shoulder, letting his hand slide down McCoy’s arm as he let go. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Bones leaned into the touch a little as he did so.

They took the drinks back to the table and Jim suggested a toast. They drank happily to Bones’ birthday. Jim wedged himself between Scotty and Sulu and took great pleasure in flirting with them both as much as possible. Sulu just took it in his stride, but Scotty blustered and flushed and squirmed to get away, almost crawling into Uhura’s lap to do so. Of course, with such a prime target, Jim couldn’t help but continue to needle him for the next hour until Uhura begged him to stop as her sides hurt from laughing so hard.

Jim caught McCoy’s eye across the table at that moment. The happiness was back, the relaxedness, the… the unnamed thing that Jim hoped against hope was what he wanted it to be. Sulu finished his drink and stood up, bidding them a good evening and squeezing out of the booth. Everyone shuffled around until Jim and Bones were sat next to each other.

Jim found if he moved, just minutely, his thigh rested against McCoy’s own. What was even better was that McCoy didn’t move away. His leg pressed back, warm against Jim’s own under the table. Jim had never been so hyperaware of someone’s clothed body pressing against his before.

“So, we’re all single, all young. Someone’s got to have an interesting sex or dating story,” Uhura said, finishing yet another cocktail. She had amassed quite the collection in front of her and Chekov had taken to sticking the umbrellas in his hair. Uhura had spent quite a lot of the night, when she hadn’t been drinking, on her phone, texting someone. Obviously, whoever it was, it had brought out her romantic side.

“I have been dating a woman and have realised one wery important thing,” Chekov said. His words were slightly slurred, his hands clutching his vodka – straight of course, and his tie hanging loose around his neck. “I am not good at dating women. They are impossible.”

“Trust me, it’s no easier dating men,” Jim replied, sipping his beer and leaning back into the booth and leaning to put an arm around Scotty who glared at him. Chekov grinned.

“I am thinking that you are an untapped gold mine of information about dating, Keptin,” Chekov said and Jim rolled his eyes.

“I don’t ‘date’. I have wonderfully passionate and very _European_ style affairs,” he replied, grinning and trying not to look at McCoy. “Or at least, I did. Now I’m back in the states, I’m not sure if settling down wouldn’t be a more fun challenge…”

“I take it you’ve been a bit of a playboy in the past then?” she asked. Jim shrugged.

“I’ve had my share of partners,” he replied. Uhura gave him a speculative stare and Jim became hyperaware of the fact that McCoy was remaining silent and just listening.

“You ever been in love?”

That question came out of left-field. It was Scotty who’d asked it. He was staring down at his whiskey, his expression suddenly rather morose. Jim looked at his hands.

“I’ve thought I was. I mean, there’s times when I’ve been so caught up in someone it’s been like nothing else mattered. But then I look back afterwards and realise I didn’t love them, just loved the newness or the person _I_ was when I was with them. But if you’re asking me if I’ve ever met someone I felt was _the one_ , well… I’m not married. If I met that person, you can bet your life that they’re going to end up stuck with me forever,” Jim said finally. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in love, but he had a healthy amount of scepticism about it. He knew that there was attraction, that there were crushes, that there were friendships, but the idea of being with one person forever…

He felt McCoy move slightly, the length of his thigh pressing against Jim before it settled again.

The idea of one person forever was terrifying and yet the way Jim’s whole body felt a flash of heat at that moment, he knew he could probably survive it if he met someone who’s newness didn’t wear off after a few months.

“I had her once,” Scotty said, tracing his finger over the top of the glass. “Back when I was in Scotland. She was beautiful. All these red curls that used to spill over her shoulders and eyes such a bright blue it made the sky look dark.”

Jim didn’t know what to say. It seemed that Uhura and Chekov had no idea either. Luckily at that point, McCoy finally decided to join the conversation.

“There ain’t just one person for everyone. Biologically, we’re just not wired that way. There are loads of ‘ones’ and you just gotta keep lookin’ for them,” he said, sipping his bourbon. “Jocelyn was a ‘one’ and look how that turned out? You can’t give up just because you loved once.”

Jim looked at McCoy, but the other’s attention was on Scotty. It was reassuring, Jim thought, that Bones thought that way, but Jim hadn’t even found _one_ someone he could love completely, never mind a multitude of them. Scotty finished his drink.

“Ah, I’ve turned the conversation all sad. I’m head off,” he said. Jim clapped him on the shoulder before he rose to his feet.

“I’m going to go too,” Uhura said, her phone buzzing on the table. She snatched it up, checking her messages as she rose. Jim grinned at her.

“A ‘one’?” he asked. Uhura gave him a secretive smile.

“Maybe,” she replied mysteriously, before leaning over to kiss Leonard’s cheek and putting her arm through Scotty’s, leaving the bar. Chekov was pulling umbrellas out of his hair, obviously figuring he’d look a bit stupid sat there with them decorating him without a girl there.

“So, tell me about this girl of yours,” McCoy asked. Chekov smiled and began to launch into a tale of puppy love so sweet that it made Jim gag.

* * *

 

Hours later Chekov left. He was staggering slightly but Jim guessed he would be if he could even still stand. There had been quite a lot of strong alcohol. McCoy had taken to going to the bar, refilling their drinks and Jim was slightly suspicious that McCoy didn’t seem as drunk as he did. Even so, the other was relaxed against the booth, head tilted towards Jim’s and full, beautiful mouth quirked into a small smile.

“So, you didn’ go home for your holidays huh?” Bones asked and Jim knocked back the rest of his drink. He had drank enough that he knew he was probably about to blab his life story out, but not so drunk that he knew it was probably a bad idea. Getting that close to people always was.

But Uhura knew, so damnit, McCoy could too.

“Nowhere to go home to. Mom’s out travelling the world. Frank doesn’t want a ‘gay boy’ in his house. Sammy, hell, fuck knows where he is. Disappeared without a trace the moment he became legal,” Jim said, grimacing as his mouth ran without engaging the filter of his brain. McCoy made a noise in the back of his throat that Jim couldn’t discern.

“I take it your dad’s not on the scene then?” he asked. Jim shook his head, watching condensation run down the side of his glass.

“Dead. Killed in Afghanistan,” he replied. Even though everyone else was gone, McCoy was still sat close enough to him for their knees to bump. The other casually put his hand on Jim’s shoulder, completing contact down Jim’s side.

“I’m sorry Jim. I didn’t mean to pry,” he said and his eyes held a kind of understanding that Jim couldn’t even question.

“No it’s fine. I just think there are more cheerful things to talk about,” Jim replied, smiling brightly. Bones didn’t remove his hand from his shoulder though, and Jim was grateful for the hand against his feverish, alcohol warmed skin.

“That’s true but it’s getting late. We should probably call it a night,” McCoy said, getting to his feet and stretching. Jim glanced at his phone. It was later than he thought. He took stood as well, wondering if he was going to have to order a cab or if there’d be one outside waiting for him. He was about to say goodnight when McCoy cursed.

“My house keys… I left them in my car back at school. I wasn’t thinkin’,” McCoy muttered as he frantically turned out his pockets. Jim stared at him for a moment then chuckled.

“You got a spare?” he asked. McCoy shook his head, looking panicked.

“No and my ma will kill me if I wake up the house trying to get someone to let me in,” he said, his wallet, phone, change, car keys and classroom keys all on the table, but no house keys.

“You still live with your parents?” Jim asked. That was… interesting or tragic. He couldn’t decide between the two.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up it still leaves me high and dry for the night. I’m too drunk for this…” McCoy hissed, putting everything back in his pockets. Jim glanced at the door, his mind working sluggishly as he weighed up his options. He probably shouldn’t do what he was about to, but damn it all, you only lived once.

“Why don’t you come back to mine? I don’t live far enough away from the school that it’s an impossible walk and you can leave your folks in peace,” he said. McCoy regarded him for a moment and Jim was struck, once again, that perhaps Bones wasn’t as drunk as he seemed. Then the other nodded and moved around the table in a rather ungainly fashion that showed he was at least a little bit drunk.

Jim shivered as they left the bar, the cool air hitting his skin instantly making him hyperaware of how much he had drank. A light drizzle was falling and Jim drew his coat around himself tightly as he made his way towards the main road. Luckily there were cabs waiting outside and Jim slipped into one.

McCoy followed him, landing heavily against the seat. Jim rattled off his address while Bones settled himself. There was no warm thigh press this time but Jim still found himself leaning slightly towards the centre. McCoy was just looking out of the window the entire journey.

When they pulled up in front of his house, Bones whistled. Jim paid the driver and stepped out after him. McCoy was staring at the front of the house and Jim stood beside him. The front door was painted a cheerful burnished gold colour, the handle polished brass. The house was old, from just after the Civil War and it had beautiful large windows with white shutters. The front garden was just potted plants that Jim hadn’t really paid much attention to, but the slightly overgrown nature of it didn’t detract.

“I didn’t picture this,” McCoy admitted. Jim shrugged, laughing slightly as he led the other to his front door and unlocked it.

“What? You expected a swanky modern apartment, right? I like old things too,” he said, removing his coat and toeing off his shoes. McCoy also removed his shoes but his eyes were skimming around the hallway, taking in the pictures on Jim’s walls (all art, no photographs), the staircase that led upstairs, the lounge door which was open.

Jim watched as Bones walked into his lounge, hand trailing against the door as he took in the room. The large sofas, slightly worn by age with throws over them to hide a stain. Mismatched wooden furniture that had been bought hastily upon his return from Europe so that he would have _something_ to put in his home. The scattered music magazines, scientific journals and newspapers across his coffee table.

Something caught Bones’ eye though and he moved to the corner of the room. Jim saw his hands reach out to open the case of the record player. His finger lightly traced over the wooden lid and Jim suddenly felt like a voyeur.

“Another thing I didn’t picture. You got a collection?” McCoy asked. Jim gestured to the cabinet below.

“My favourites are in there. The rest are in a cupboard in my office. Put one on if you want. I’m going to heat us up a pizza,” Jim said as he retreated to the kitchen. He draped his coat over the chair on his way out as Bones began to flick through the vinyl before him.

His kitchen was pretty much bare, a few unwashed dishes from the morning still laid on the side. He turned on his coffee machine, figuring it’d help them sober up, and then bent down to pull pizzas out of the freezer. He heard the soft sounds of jazz begin to filter from the lounge.

_Maybe I’m right and maybe I’m wrong… Maybe I’m weak? Maybe I’m strong… But nevertheless, I’m in love with you…_

He smiled a little. Frank Sinatra? Not what he’d have expected Bones to pick, but it was mellow and easy to listen to. He set the timer on the oven as he slid the frozen pizza in and slipped out of the kitchen to prepare the spare bedroom. His guest room was untouched and still had a few boxes in it. He quickly straightened the bed linen and made it a bit more presentable before heading back downstairs to check on the pizza.

_Maybe I’ll live a life of regret? Maybe I’ll give much more than I’ll get? But nevertheless, nevertheless…_

Jim stepped into the lounge, about to tell McCoy when his room was but stopped short. McCoy was sat on his couch, slumped over slightly. His coat had been discarded over Jim’s own, his top shirt buttons undone and his tie hanging loosely around his shoulders. His breathing was deep and even, his face smoothed in sleep. He looked younger, peaceful, _gorgeous_.

It was a moment. A moment with a capital M. A Moment that Jim knew was going to change him from that moment on and he couldn’t stop it. He watched as McCoy’s chest rose and fell, the soft sounds of his breathing complimented by the gentle croon of Frank Sinatra in the background.

It was a Moment like when Monica Lynne had kissed him in 9th Grade, when Carol Marcus had suggested they went beyond being friends, when Riley had met his eyes across a crowded room and smiled a slow smile. It was a Moment that would define him, direct him a different way to the way he had before, sink deep into his bones and make every breath he took mean something different.

It was a Moment where Jim Kirk realised, without a shadow of a doubt, without any kind of insecurity in his mind, without any kind of fear, that he was falling in love. For the first time, for the  hardest time, for the stupidest time.

_Nevertheless, I’m in love with you._

He crept across the room, pulling a throw off the other couch and draping it over McCoy with shaking hands. He reached out, tentative and unsure, smoothing hair away from the other’s face and then moving away as though burned.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself before the dim crackle of the record player registered in his mind. He moved, taking the pin up off the vinyl and watching the record go round a few more times before he switched it off.

_Nevertheless..._

Jim turned off the oven and coffee machine, left the half frozen pizza still in the oven and took himself upstairs. He brushed his teeth, stripped down to his boxers, climbed into his bed, stared at the ceiling.

_Nevertheless…_

_Nevertheless, I’m in love with you._


	10. Gingerbread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You really know how to pick ‘em, Kirk, I’ll give you that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter. Sorry.

Leonard knew that Jim didn’t know that he’d been drinking coke instead of mixers most of the night. He wasn’t about to tell him either. It wasn’t a test of Jim’s character. Or rather, it wasn’t a conscious one. The moment he’d realised his keys were lost, he’d known that he was going to end up going home with Jim.

And that had raised something interesting. It wasn’t like he was oblivious to the way Jim looked at him. And it wasn’t that he was averse to the idea of maybe… pursuing that interest. But he’d been hurt enough times to know that it was a stupid idea. Not to mention the fact that they worked together.

Jim was bright and vibrant and carefree and he lived his life in a way that Leonard would easily admit to being envious of. Sure, it was reckless, but Leonard wished, oh how he wished, he could have spent his early thirties in such a happy-go-lucky way. Now he was old, middle-aged, and living with his parents because he’d got married young and thought it would last forever.

He had entered Jim’s house knowing that he had to play at drunk. He didn’t trust himself otherwise. He didn’t trust himself not to take this a step too far, to tumble into Jim’s bed and see what those beautiful eyes looked like when clouded with lust.

But Jim’s home… It wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d expected to find it minimalist, uncluttered, free of signs that Jim was a human who had attachments to things that were more than just cheap thrills, and yet he could see from the moment he walked in that he’d been wrong. The art on the walls wasn’t just randomly picked at random, each portrait held some significance and Leonard could tell that if he asked, each would have a story. A beach, a woman clutching a small glowing orb, a child standing alone on a hill.

He made his way into Jim’s lounge and was met with the smell of wooden furniture and books. Shelves and shelves of books with a television nestled between them all as almost an afterthought. But it was the case in the corner that drew his eye the most. He recognised it, having owned one of his own years ago.  He let his hands trace the cover hesitantly, before he looked up at Jim.

“Another thing I didn’t picture. You got a collection?” he asked. Jim proceeded to prattle and then excused himself mumbling something about pizza. McCoy began to flick through the collection, his fingers pausing on one record in particular.

He’d danced to this on his first wedding anniversary, all those years ago. When Jocelyn hadn’t hated him, when he was still a surgeon. He’d swept Jocelyn around the dance floor, laughing as she told him they were expecting their first, and what would turn out to be their only, child. That night they’d picked out the name Joanna and shared fruit juice and chocolates and planned out their life in the stars.

He set the record to play, sitting down on the couch and removing his jacket. He closed his eyes, listening to the soft croon of Sinatra from the speakers. Jim bustled about in the background and Leonard started to doze.

He was aware when Jim came back in though. He was going to open his eyes and ask after the pizza, but then he felt a blanket laid on him gently. He forced himself to relax when he felt Jim’s hand, trembling and gentle as it slid over his forehead, smoothing his hair in a way that spoke of more fondness than the other man ever had let on. Jim suddenly snatched his hand away.

“Shit,” he heard the other hiss and Leonard fought the urge to open his eyes. If he remained motionless, he wouldn’t have to deal with this. Not yet.

Jim withdrew, turning off the record player and the lights. He waited until he was sure that Jim was tucked up in bed before he moved, eyes blinking against the dark, unfamiliar room.

The way he saw it at this point he had two choices, he could either ignore Jim’s attraction to him or he could act on it. The insecurities rose up, trying to choke him. He lay on the couch, spreading out as much as was possible as the dark corners of the ceiling seemed to reach for him.

“Yeah, kid, _shit_.”

* * *

 

Jim woke the next morning with a pounding skull and a mouth that tasted worse than a camel’s ass. Not that he’d ever licked a camel’s ass, but he was sure it couldn’t taste worse than the fuzzy, alcohol tinged taste of his mouth. He walked to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and wondering what he was forgetting.

He was snorting toothpaste out of his nose when he remembered that McCoy was downstairs. He spent a few moments with his eyes watering, trying to snort water out of his nose to get the burning menthol out of his nostrils, before he grabbed a pair of sweat pants and crept down stairs.

McCoy wasn’t on the couch. His coat was gone. The coffee machine was quietly percolating in the kitchen though, and a note was laid before it.

_Jim, I got a head start on you this morning. Your couch was real comfy. See you on Monday and thanks for the place to crash – ~~Le~~ Bones_

Jim let the pad of his finger trace over the signature at the bottom. Something insignificant, McCoy scribbling out his half-formed given name to leave instead the name that Jim had made for him, but something interesting nonetheless.

Jim wracked his brain for anything he might have done the night before to make the other uncomfortable, but came up blank. He had no idea why McCoy had hightailed it. Maybe he had been called away? Maybe he was just not comfortable staying at other people’s houses? Maybe he’d been awake for hours and had got tired of waiting around.

There were hundreds of different reasons. Jim picked up the note, about to throw it in the recycling when he noticed there was something scribbled on the back.

_PS. My cell phone number is arranged on the rather childish number fridge magnets you have. Why do you have those if you’re a full-grown man? And yes, I was playing with them because I got bored. You’re a really late riser, kid._

Jim glanced at his fridge and saw that the brightly coloured numbers _had_ been rearranged into a series of digits that was _definitely_ a phone number. He scrambled to get his phone, inputting the numbers as fast as his fingers could unlock the keypad and adding it to contacts. He then paused, not sure whether or not to text straight away or leave it.

He finally steeled his courage.

**[Did you get home alright by yourself old man? Remember where the school was and everything?]**

He sent it without even realising that McCoy wouldn’t have his number stored in his phone and stared as the bar of ‘sending’ filled. He quickly typed in another message.

**[This is Jim btw.]**

He put his head in his hands. Well, that could have gone better. He poured himself a coffee and sipped it, scalding hot, trying to think of more than McCoy’s sleeping face the previous night. When he failed he took his coffee into the lounge and put on the television, selecting a sci-fi movie from the cable and trying his best not to brood on the fact he wasn’t receiving any messages.

* * *

 

Jim totally didn’t spend the weekend moping and waiting for his phone to buzz on the coffee table. There was no response from McCoy, which could have meant anything, from that the man didn’t even make it home and was lying in a gutter somewhere to that Jim had annoyed him somehow and he had blocked his number immediately.

Or that he just didn’t care enough to respond.

Jim hadn’t been this tense about a text message in _years_.

He stepped into the Science Office, obscenely early on Monday morning, and wasn’t too surprised to find Nyota already there. She seemed surprised to see him though. She was sipping tea, her lips pursed as she blew on the heated liquid. Jim could smell the vague scent of citrus that meant it was probably Earl Grey.

“Early Jim,” she commented. Jim shrugged, making his way to the coffee machine. “And it was your turn for breakfast.”

“God damnit I knew there was something!” Jim groaned, putting his mug onto the counter and pouring himself an extra-large, extra-sweet measure. He sat opposite from Nyota, staring at the dark swirling depths and wondering if he should be thinking poetic thoughts about how it reflected his mood.

“Well, you’re so cheerful this morning. My weekend was fine thanks. I had a great time. Went to dinner on Saturday night and it was lovely. Thanks for asking, Jim,” Nyota said, her tone sarcastic but not unkind. Jim ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry. I was just… It’s been one of those weekends,” he admitted. Nyota’s eyebrow raised.

“Uh huh. Want to tell Big Sister Nyota all about it?” she asked. Jim felt a reluctant smile spread over his features as he tried to put into words what he wanted to say.

“Me and Bones were the last ones left at the bar on Friday,” he began, turning the coffee round and round in his hands for something to do with his nervous energy.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Everyone knew he was on coke and trying to keep you from getting too wasted. I’m sure they felt you were in safe hands,” she said, shrugging. Jim gaped at her.

 _What_.

“What?” he asked, his eyes wide. Nyota quirked an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you notice? He ended up going to the bar for all the rounds towards the end and came back with ‘mixers’ each time. And he wasn’t getting anymore drunk.” Her eyes were dancing with mirth and Jim re-evaluated everything at his house. Drunk or not, McCoy had been asleep, right? Right?

“Oh shit,” Jim put his head in his hands and scrubbed at his scalp.

“What did you do Jim?” Nyota’s tone turned suspicious. Jim didn’t look up, but he did put his palms up in surrender.

“I did a stupid. I invited him back to mine when he said that he didn’t have his house keys. If I’d known he was sober I’d have just let him get a cab back to school and get his car,” he said, his words muffled as his forehead pressed against the table.

“I think you’re seeing things negatively there Jim. I think what you meant was that Leonard went back to yours even though he was sober and had no reason to,” she said. Jim felt his stomach lurch and tried not to think too hard about it.

“Yeah but he fell asleep on my couch while I was heating us up food,” Jim said. Nyota just looked at him.

“I don’t see why you’re beating yourself up about this? So Leonard slept on your couch?” Her tone dripped in condescension and Jim bit back the angry retort, deciding that unless he was _honest_ he wasn’t going to get any help from her.

“I’m beating myself up about this because I’m in love with Bones. Completely and utterly in lov-“

“Mornin’.”

Jim jumped as the door opened and McCoy strode in, looking much more cheerful than he should do for someone who was lying in a ditch dead. For one terrifying moment, Jim thought he might have overheard. Nyota was giving him a wide-eyed look as well, but McCoy breezed past them straight to the coffee pot and started to fill up his own mug.

“But yeah, like you were saying Jim, you’re completely and utterly in love with that gingerbread recipe I gave you, right? I knew you’d like it,” Nyota said, clearly trying to cover. Jim wished she’d picked a more believable lie than the idea that he and Nyota sat around trading goddamn _baking_ recipes, but there wasn’t much he could do now.

McCoy sat down next to them and Jim wanted the earth to swallow him whole. He was seriously going to have to have a conversation about baking imaginary gingerbread now and pretending that he knew _anything_ about the process.

“Yeah. It was… gingery,” Jim replied. Nyota cleared her throat and turned to McCoy instead, smiling.

“We were just talking about maybe starting to do some baking for breakfast club, you know, bring something fresh in that isn’t store bought,” she said and Jim wished she wouldn’t make the lie more elaborate because, goddamnit, McCoy’s eyes were lighting up like it was Christmas.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a bit of gingerbread. Although I saw Jim’s fridge and I’m not sure what he used to make ‘em. Didn’t seem to be much in there that wasn’ microwavable,” he said, glancing to the side. It was clear that they’d been caught in their lie. McCoy didn’t believe they’d been talking about _baking_ and Jim grew desperate not to have to admit what they _had_ been talking about.

“I, er, went to the store after you left and got supplies, you know, to try it out. Had a lot of time to myself this weekend and everything. Ended up making a whole batch!” he said, faux-pride puffing up his chest. McCoy raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so? You should bring some in tomorrow so we can sample it,” he suggested. Jim gave Nyota a panicked look.

“Oh sorry. I went round and me and Jim ate it all,” Nyota stepped in smoothly. Or not so smoothly. Oh god this was a clusterfuck of a lie.

“You ate it all,” McCoy repeated blankly. He was smirking now and he sipped his coffee. “You know, Jim doesn’t have any baking trays either. Or a set of weighing scales. I know because I was trying to find something to make breakfast with and couldn’t find anything.”

Jim stood up abruptly.

“I’ve got photocopying to do! Just remembered! See you later!” he said. Nyota looked at him with eyes that promised murder if he left her alone with a digging McCoy and he tried to think of a reason that she could come with him.

“Oh and Nyota can you help me carry it? Got lots to do. Lots to do,” he said and dashed from the room. Nyota followed him and once they were around the corner, they collapsed against the wall. Jim stared at the ceiling.

“My life is over,” he groaned. Nyota began to laugh uncontrollably.

“You really know how to pick ‘em, Kirk, I’ll give you that.”

He really didn’t have a reply to that.


	11. Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Spock thought they should be together.
> 
> Even Spock thought it was a date.
> 
> Even Spock.
> 
> Jim thought he was going to go insane if McCoy turned out to be 100% straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is approximately the half-way point for this fic now and from next chapter it becomes less about Jim and more about McCoy for those who have been waiting for that moment.

The week was an interesting one. It wasn’t that Jim _avoided_ McCoy, it was more that he… didn’t end up in the same room as him alone that often. Or at all actually. Jim wasn’t _planning_ it as such. Except that maybe he was. He didn’t want to have any awkward conversations. McCoy was looking more and more annoyed by it as the week progressed and Jim seemed to always have someone attached to his hip though, and Jim wondered if the other really just wanted to talk to him and clear the air.

Thursday finally rolled around and Nyota saved Jim by bringing in a fresh batch of gingerbread that he passed off as his own that morning with a cheerful, fake smile. McCoy hadn’t touched a single piece of it and had just raised an eyebrow as he left.

Jim felt like an idiot. He should never have allowed himself to fall in love with McCoy like this.

He sat in his classroom, during a free period he’d normally have been bothering Bones in, marking books glumly. He had the radio turned on low. The Shirelles crooned about whether or not there might be love tomorrow and Jim sighed, trying to keep his mind on correcting the spelling of ‘astrophysics’ from ‘astropsychics’. It was pretty much a losing battle.

He was about to give up and get himself coffee when the door to his classroom opened.

He looked up to see McCoy stood there, looking a little sheepish before he squared his shoulders and walked towards Jim’s desk. He guessed the moment of truth was upon him and he was going to probably have to strenuously deny everything.

“You’ve been a hard man to track down this week,” McCoy said, leaning against Jim’s desk. Jim focused on not looking at McCoy’s hips or the long-fingered hand resting against his pile of papers. He shuffled the books in front of him instead.

“Yeah, you know, busy time January and all,” he said. McCoy made a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Yeah I guess… I was wonderin’ if you wanted to go for a drink tomorrow, that’s all. We haven’t seen each other all week. We can catch up,” he said, his voice so, so casual and Jim’s heart seemed to stop beating for a few seconds before it tried to make up for it by beating double time. He swallowed.

“Oh, you’re going to come out with the rest of us? That’d be cool Bones,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual and hoping, _praying_ , that he hadn’t misunderstood and McCoy would clarify... McCoy shifted a little and Jim could tell that he was looking at him. He didn’t have the courage to look up.

“I don’t really like that Irish bar. I was thinkin’ there’s this place a little further into the city. Got good food and live music. You know, a change of scenery?” he suggested. Jim swallowed and tried to still his hands on the pages. He was playing with the corner of a memo about report cards and he’d already dog-eared the corner.

“Why not? Should be fun,” he said, aware that his voice sounded a little strained. McCoy made another small sound in the back of his throat.

“We can go straight from work tomorrow. I’ll leave you to your marking,” McCoy said and stepped away. Jim finally looked up in time to see McCoy’s back disappearing through the door and sat there for a few moments, staring at the wall in numb shock.

Had Bones asked him on a _date_? Is that what this was?

He stood here a few moments later before getting to his feet and dashing along the corridor.

He needed Nyota.

* * *

 

After school he sat in Nyota’s room. She was drawing a flow chart on the whiteboard. In the left corner it read ‘Is not a date’ and in the other it read ‘is a date’. She had written questions and drawn complicated lines and Jim was trying to follow.

She pointed to the question at the top.

“Is it just the two of you?” she asked. Jim frowned.

“He didn’t mention anyone else? Oh my god Nyota, do you think he’s going to bring someone else? What if Scotty turns up? What if he invited everyone else? Or is going to?” Jim asked, wondering when he’d become a teenage girl and how he was supposed to deal with all this anxiety between now and then. Nyota chuckled.

“Well I haven’t been invited, so let’s assume it’s just the two of you,” she said, following the ‘yes’ line down the board. Jim looked at the next question.

“Is there food involved?” she asked. Jim tried to remember what Bones had said earlier.

“He mentioned food and music I think?” he replied. Nyota followed the line towards the ‘date’ box. Jim swallowed.

“Did he tell you to dress up?” she asked. Jim shook his head. Nyota moved down the line towards ‘not a date’ and Jim winced. The final question would solve all.

“Did he use flirtatious body language when asking you?”

Jim didn’t even _know_. He didn’t want to admit to Nyota that he hadn’t even been able to look at him. He shook his head and Nyota followed the final arrow down to ‘not a date’. She sighed, looking at the board and the tangled web they’d created.

“Mixed signals huh?” she commented lightly and then began to wipe away the flow chart. Jim pouted. He’d thought she’d be able to help more than this.

“There is one way we can tell, though you’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” Nyota said as she stood on her tip toes to reach the top of the board. Jim admired the way her spine bent as she did it.

“Stop checking me out Kirk, you insufferable idiot,” she scolded without even turning around. Jim laughed a little before she continued. “McCoy isn’t exactly the most fashion conscious, as you’ve probably gathered. He has one designer shirt that he wears for like, every important occasion. It’s a white Ralph Lauren shirt, you’ll be able to see the logo on the breast. If he’s wearing that tomorrow, then you’ll know it’s a date,” she said. Jim perked up a little.

“That easy?” he asked. Nyota turned to him, board cleaner in one hand and shrugged.

“It’s as good as you’re going to get without asking him,” she replied and he nodded, getting to his feet. She watched him warily as he approached her but didn’t do anything other than feebly protest when he gave her a big hug.

“Thanks for this. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said. Nyota made a humming noise as she was released and she took a step backwards.

“Uh-huh. Just remember that Kirk, if you end up getting married. I want to be a bridesmaid and wear a damn beautiful dress,” she said before she smiled somewhat mischievously and Jim felt the cool, moist cloth of the board rubber swipe the end of his nose.

He stood there dumbly for a few moments, before reaching up to try to wipe away the no doubt black smear that had been put there. For a few moments they just stood there, before Jim made the quick dash for a board marker and Nyota slipped out of her heels, making a run for the door.

Okay, so it was childish and stupid and they ended up covered in pen. It was not something Jim had ever expected of Nyota, but as they stood in the staffroom, scrubbing pen off each other’s faces and smiling, Jim appreciated that without her distraction just then, he wouldn’t have known what to do.

* * *

 

McCoy was wearing a jacket.

Jim slumped against the table and tried not to look like he was going to go out of his mind. Spock didn’t even question why Jim was trying to become one with the furniture and continued the morning briefing as always. Nyota gave his knee an understanding pat under the table before she left to get her lessons ready.

Jim stood up to go when McCoy caught his elbow.

“We still on for tonight?” he asked. His brow was furrowed slightly, something that Jim recognised as the ‘Bones Worried’ scowl. He tried to relax and smile.

“Of course, Bones! I wouldn’t blow you off without telling you,” he said. Sulu coughed loudly as he left and Jim felt heat creeping up the back of his neck. McCoy let go of his arm and nodded.

“Alright then. See you later,” he said and left the room. Jim was left alone with Spock and he could feel the other’s eyes on him. He glanced at him.

“You are going on a date with Doctor McCoy?” Spock asked. Jim felt his face flush.

“I don’t know. I don’t know whether to call it that,” he protested but Spock just nodded.

“I am glad for both of you. And I should say, it’s about time. I was beginning to worry about the two of you,” he said and then just squared his shoulders and goddamn _left_.

Spock.

Even _Spock_ thought they should be together.

Even _Spock_ thought it was a date.

 _Even Spock_.

Jim thought he was going to go insane if McCoy turned out to be 100% straight.

* * *

 

Time seemed to be warped. Some moments dragged on forever, then suddenly two hours would have passed in the blink of an eye. Jim didn’t know if he was dreading the night or looking forward to it. By the time the final bell went, he felt like a complete mess.

He’d brought clothes to change into, but decided against it at the last minute. He never changed when he went out with everyone else, and if this didn’t turn out to be a date, he’d look stupid if he did it now. He instead took off his tie, rolled up his shirt sleeves and unbuttoned his collar. He felt a lot more casual for it.

He waited a few minutes, but as they ticked by he grew more and more impatient. He quickly ducked under his desk, pulling out his cologne from his briefcase and dabbing himself with a little to try to get himself smelling a bit fresher. He came back up and nearly died when he saw McCoy there, his eyebrow hiked half way up his forehead.

“What on earth are you doing under your desk? The day been that bad?” he asked. Jim laughed, realising he probably sounded a little hysterical. McCoy wasn’t just wearing a jacket now, but also a coat over the top and Jim wanted to just strip him down to see what he was wearing.

“I dropped something but I can’t see it,” he lied and straightened up. McCoy seemed to take him in as he put his hands in his pockets. Jim grabbed his coat and slid it over his shoulders as he grabbed his keys, making sure he had everything.

“I thought we could get a cab rather than drive?” McCoy suggested. Jim nodded, his tongue seeming to be trapped to the roof of his mouth. He walked to the door, turning off the lights, hyperaware of McCoy behind him. They walked out of the school in almost silence.

McCoy must have booked a cab because there was one waiting for them in the parking lot. Jim slid into the back seat and tried not to think too hard about it all. He began to prattle on about his day as the taxi started to take them through gridlocked streets towards that bar McCoy had picked.

McCoy seemed to be genuinely listening which made Jim actually feel somewhat bad as he knew he was talking complete and utter shit. He grimaced when he felt how sweaty his palms were. There was no way of knowing, however, just what McCoy was thinking at that moment. Jim was too worried he was looking into it too much to trust his own observations and the line between friendly and flirty was too blurred for him to make out.

“You must have been lacking for adult company today. You’re talking a mile-a-minute,” McCoy finally commented and Jim felt his mouth snap shut. He licked his lips, taking in McCoy’s teasing smile.

“Sorry. You’re right. I spent most of the day with the kids or by myself. Guess it’s all coming flooding out now,” he lied and tried to surreptitiously wipe his hands on his pants leg. McCoy chuckled, a sound that made the caterpillars in Jim’s stomach give an enthusiastic wiggle.

“It’s alright. It’s just been a while since I’ve listened to someone tell me about their day,” McCoy replied and he didn’t sound wistful, but instead just slightly amused. Jim cleared his throat and looked out of the window at the darkened streets and brake lights.

“You didn’t need to be quiet. I didn’t say I minded,” McCoy said after a moment’s awkward silence. Jim looked at him out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t know what to do. He felt flat-footed by the whole experience. Was this what it was like for normal people on dates? He had always been so confident when dating before, he’d never thought that his partners might have felt like this.

Then again, he’d never really been on a date with someone he liked and respected as much as McCoy before.

“I ran out of steam,” he replied, shrugging slightly. McCoy’s mouth turned down a little, like he wished he hadn’t said anything at all. A few moments later and Bones began to dig through his pockets, getting his wallet out and giving terse instructions to the driver to take specific turnings.

They pulled up outside a venue that was definitely out of the way and looked small. It was freshly painted on the outside though, and there were a few people hanging around the front entrance smoking and talking easily to each other. A large crocodile playing a guitar was painted on the window.

“C’mon. Let’s get inside,” McCoy said, opening the cab door and climbing out. Jim followed suit, looking up at the place. He found it was distinctly ‘McCoy’ and that he probably shouldn’t have been surprised that McCoy would pick somewhere like this. He followed the other man in, grinning a little when he took in the inside.

It was dark and intimate. There was a stage at the front, a small dancefloor, and a scattering of tables around the place. Even at the early hour there were people starting to fill up the tables from the front. McCoy however led them to a corner with a good view of the stage and took off his coat, hanging it over the back of the chair.

Jim’s heart was in his mouth as McCoy began to undo his suit jacket as well. Jim fumbled the buttons on his own coat and jumped when the waitress suddenly appeared at his table.

“What’ll be be?” she asked, smiling cheerfully. Jim’s mind raced as he tried to decide what the hell he wanted to drink but McCoy beat him to it.

“Bourbon. For both of us,” he said. The waitress jotted it down and walked away with a smile. Jim glanced at the other and McCoy actually grinned as he slid off his jacket. “You’re in a Blues bar, Jim. You can hardly drink anything that’s not from the South.”

It was then that Jim made out the small, inobtrusive, logo on the breast of McCoy’s shirt. His heart leapt into his throat, his cheeks flushed, his breathing hitched. He quickly shucked his coat and sat down so that he wouldn’t fall over.

McCoy thought this was a date. According to Uhura in any case.

Jim trusted her.

So this was a date?

* * *

 

The food _was_ good. The booze was cheap and plentiful. The music was amazing and Jim found himself appreciating the enthusiastic blues band that took to the stage as the night wore on. He and McCoy didn’t have trouble talking after Jim’s initial awkwardness. Talk turned to shop quickly, but soon enough it wandered to all manner of things, from music to opinions of films and books.

It turned out that McCoy wasn’t a fan of modern literature, preferring what he referred to as the ‘classics’ though he made an exception for Steinbeck. He liked action films and had laughed when Jim had suggested some clever films that might change his mind. They’d agreed at some point that McCoy should almost certainly watch Breaking Bad, which he admitted to having never bothered to watch and Jim felt was an outrage. They’d found that their music tastes matched almost exactly, an eclectic mix of things from their childhood and their parent’s eras that left them discussing concerts from before they were born.

Jim was more than a little tipsy by the time ten rolled around. He knew he was at his limit for sensible alcohol and was going to have to stop soon. Luckily McCoy stopped ordering alcohol at that point too and called for the bill.

Jim would have liked to have stayed for a while and perhaps danced, but he got the feeling that McCoy wouldn’t join him and that it would be somewhat awkward. He instead reached for the bill, only to have it snatched away from his fingertips.

“Hey! I was going to suggest going halfsies!” Jim protested. McCoy raised his eyebrow and Jim felt a surge of excitement when he saw McCoy place down what had to have been the full amount. Just like you would do, if you went on a date.

If this was a date.

Jim swallowed and got to his feet, putting his coat back on. He’d had a good time. He’d probably have had a better time if he’d felt he was allowed to flirt though. There was a heaviness in the air now, the awkward moment where he didn’t quite know what to do. The end of the date. What did he even say? What did he do? How did he get across that he had a great time and would like to do it again? Maybe next time with them rolling into bed together afterwards?

McCoy pushed through the crowds to the door and Jim followed, trying to think of a way to end the date that wouldn’t be awkward and left McCoy in no doubts about it. Once he was outside though, McCoy was instantly flagging down a cab and it left Jim a little dumbstruck. Was McCoy that desperate to get away? He hadn’t seemed so inside…?

“C’mon. Get in. I’m going to have to go half way through your neighbourhood to get home anyway so we might as well share a cab,” McCoy said, holding the door open. Jim nodded and got inside. Usually at this point in one of his dates he’d have been all over the other person, touching them, possibly making out in the back of the taxi.

McCoy didn’t lean over to kiss him. Didn’t reach out his hand. He did turn his body towards Jim though, eyes shining and slightly glassy in the darkness. Jim only then remembered to tell that driver his address.

“I had a great night, Jim. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone to go out with like this,” he said and Jim wondered if the last person he’d gone out with had been Jocelyn. McCoy didn’t seem like the kind to date or be a playboy.

“Yeah, I had fun too. That band, they were amazing. We should definitely go again,” he said, hoping that McCoy caught the tone of his voice and interpreted it correctly. There was a moment when he thought that it had gone over the other’s head, but then McCoy’s neck turned a little pink and he nodded.

Not entirely platonic then. Jim could live with that.

“I would say next Friday, but I think that the others might get suspicious if you were missing every Friday evening all of a sudden,” McCoy said with a shrug. Jim laughed a little and thought about it. Did he care if other people knew he was seeing Bones? Well, obviously not, but it clearly bothered McCoy.

“We could go during the week and just knock the alcohol on the head,” he suggested, his heart in his mouth. McCoy gave him a small smile.

“Yeah might be an idea,” he replied and Jim wished he’d either said straight ‘yes’ or ‘no’ and left no more room for the gnawing doubts that had wormed their way through him. He wasn’t this kind of person normally, so self-assured. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it all.

They pulled up outside his house while the two of them had worked their way back round to discussing the band. Jim drew some dollar bills out of his wallet and handed them to McCoy.

“For my part of the ride,” he explained. Their fingers brushed as he handed over the money and he froze. He looked up, surprised to see that Bones was looking directly at him as well. There was a moment where Jim thought that McCoy was going to lean over a kiss him, but then McCoy was turning away. Jim bit his lip and got out of the cab.

“See you Monday,” he said, waving and shutting the door.

He watched the cab speed away and then walked to his door. He felt a strange mixture of elated and depressed, the emotions warring inside him. He didn’t know whether to grin or feel frustrated. He put his key into the door and stepped into his house, shedding his coat and shoes instantly.

He considered just going straight to bed, but his head was buzzing too much. He paced in his lounge for a moment before deciding he just needed to talk it out with someone, anyone.

He picked up his phone and dialled the one person who he knew would be able to calm him down. They picked up after the second ring.

“Nyota! I have no idea what happ-“

“Jim?”

Jim’s mouth snapped shut and he pulled the phone away from his ear to check he’d dialled the correct number. Yep, he’d dialled for Uhura but that was _definitely_ Spock’s voice on the line.

“Oh, er, sorry Spock. I was after Uhura,” Jim said, feeling sheepish. There was the muffled sound of Spock calling her and then a peel of laughter that sounded like Uhura’s before Jim heard the crackle of the phone being passed over.

“Hey, Jim. How’d it go?” she asked cheerfully. Jim realised his mouth was open and closed it.

“You and Spock huh?” he said in reply. He heard Uhura huff in response.

“If you’re just going to make fun, I’m going to hang up,” she replied. Jim chuckled and got to his feet pacing once more.

“I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if I had a date or went out with a friend or if he likes me or what. It’s just as confused as before. No. _More_ confused,” Jim clarified, rubbing a hand against his forehead. Uhura sighed.

“And you couldn’t have just asked I guess?” she asked. Jim made a noise that she took as a ‘no’ and chuckled. At that moment Jim’s doorbell chimed.

“Hang on, Nyota, there’s someone at the door,” he said, hooking the phone under his ear and undoing the latch.

McCoy was stood there. He had his hands in his pockets, a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. His expression was serious, seemingly composed. Jim blinked at him.

“I forgot something,” McCoy said and Jim’s mind briefly managed to process that McCoy hadn’t been _in_ his house to leave something, when the other was leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

Jim dropped the phone immediately, his hands going to McCoy’s neck to pull him in closer. It felt like whisky poured into his chest, warming him through and making him gasp for breath. His whole body felt electrified by the smallest of touches, McCoy’s hand on his waist, the lightest skim of the other’s tongue against his lower lip, the ghost of his breath over his mouth.

Then McCoy was pulling away. Jim must have had a dazed expression on his face because McCoy grinned, a beautiful smile that light up his eyes and made him look younger. He took a few steps backwards, off Jim’s doorstep.

“See you on Monday, kid,” he said and then turned and walked away, humming the blues under his breath.

Jim stared at his retreating back for a moment before he closed the door. His phone was ringing insistently at his feet and he stooped, absently answering it.

“Jim? Jim who was it? Are you okay? You weren’t attacked were you?”

Jim felt laughter bubble in his chest. It escaped as one quick giggle before it descended into hysterical, joyful laughter.

“He came back to kiss me, Uhura. Oh god, that was really romantic of him wasn’t it? Oh my god, I’m going out with someone from work, this is such a bad idea…”

Jim let the sentences, happy and gleeful, run from his mouth as Uhura listened and offered her own playful, teasing comments.

He was happy.

_Will you still love me… tomorrow?_


	12. Terminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man has been arrested under suspicion of the murder of his terminally ill father, who was found dead at his Atlanta home on Sunday.

Jim stepped into the school on Monday with a spring in his step and a laugh bubbling in the back of his throat. He bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time and only paused at his classroom to ditch his briefcase before making his way to McCoy's. He didn't want to act coy, or pretend it hadn't mattered to him. He was hoping he might actually get a sneaky kiss in before they had to attend morning briefing.

 

He banged open the door to Bones' classroom and stepped inside, a grin in place, only to be brought up short when McCoy wasn't there to scowl at him. Instead it was a woman, on the short and homely side, and she was carefully sorting through paperwork on the desk.

 

"Can I help you?" she asked. Jim stared at her for a few moments before putting the smile back on his face.

 

"Oh, I'm looking for Leonard. He about?" he asked. The woman looked at him for a moment.

 

"No. I'm covering for him. I'm an agency worker. Your boss gave me some instructions here on what to cover but... it seems very all over the place. Did Doctor McCoy have anywhere he stored his lesson plans?" she asked. Jim tried to keep the frown off his face. It wasn't her fault that Bones was off sick.

 

He went to the store cupboard and brought out the folder that he knew Bones used to keep his most up to date lesson plans and marking feedback. The woman smiled as she took it off his hands.

 

"You know how long you're covering for?" Jim asked. The woman gave him a tight-lipped smile.

 

"I think your head of department thinks it will be quite a while, but I've heard that before and the teacher has come back in the next day. I don't know the details, I'm afraid," she said and began to look through the lesson plans with a critical eye. Jim decided there was no way he could stand there and watch her dissect Bones' teaching style and made his way to the door.

 

"Well, call me if you need anything," he said. She nodded to him absently and Jim stepped out into the corridor.

 

Spock clearly knew what was going on and in enough time to get a cover teacher in. No doubt Bones had rung him to set work for the substitute teacher. He made a beeline for the other's classroom, nodding to Sulu as he passed him on the corridor.

 

Spock didn't look up when Jim entered the classroom. He was reading something on his desk and only a quirked eyebrow let Jim know that Spock even knew he'd entered the room. He walked forward, stopping in front of Spock's desk and feeling like a school child himself.

 

"Mr Kirk," Spock greeted him. Jim wondered what he'd done wrong to get the formal treatment.

 

"Er, morning Spock," he said. He leaned onto the desk and Spock finally looked up.

 

"I assume you're here about Doctor McCoy," Spock said, though his face was stonier than usual. Jim guessed there was no point lying about it.

 

"Was kind of wondering, yeah. I mean, if he's sick I'll go round and make him chicken soup-" Jim grinned but Spock cut him off with a raised hand.

 

"The Doctor is not sick," he said. He handed Jim a newspaper, the newspaper he had been reading when Jim came in. Jim took it, frowning in confusion as he scanned over the page. His mouth went slack as he found the article Spock had been reading.

 

**_A man has been arrested under suspicion of the murder of his terminally ill father, who was found dead at his Atlanta home on Sunday._ **

****

**_David McCoy was discovered at 10am on Sunday morning._ **

****

**_Leonard McCoy, 42, an ex-surgeon and now Biology Teacher at Enterprise High, was arrested at the scene under suspicion of delivering an overdose of morphine to his father._ **

****

**_Atlanta PD are asking residents who had contact with the family over the weekend to contact them. The family could not be contacted for comment, though friends of the family expressed their deep shock at the allegations._ **

 

"This is... This can't be..." Jim put the paper down. Spock stared back at him impassively.

 

"Doctor McCoy is suspended from teaching until the allegations are cleared," he replied. Jim stared back down at the paper before he grabbed it and marched over to the bin, ripping out the page, crumpling it and throwing it inside.

 

"That's bullshit Spock and you know it!" Jim said, turning angrily. "You can't suspend him! You _know_ it isn't true!"

 

Spock stared back at Jim and then got to his feet. He walked around his desk, his hand trailing on the impeccably clean surface of it as he did so.

 

"What do you suggest we do, Jim? McCoy has just lost his father, regardless of the circumstances. Not only that, this news will spread around the school and every child will know about it by recess. If he attends, grieving and suspected of murder, what good will come of it?" Spock asked, his voice hard and cold. Jim knew he was right, but he didn't want to admit it.

 

"We need to be _there for him_ Spock!" he protested. Spock folded his arms.

 

"This is the only way we can be right now. I do have Doctor McCoy's best interests at heart," he replied. Jim threw his hands up in the air.

 

"You can't be serious! We have to do something!" Jim shouted. Spock raised an eyebrow.

 

"Other than let the investigation take its course and allowing Atlanta PD to clear the Doctor's name, I don't know what you intend for us to do," he said. Jim let out a noise of frustration and walked over to the door, wrenching it open and slamming it behind him.

 

He made straight for his classroom, closing the door behind him and immediately getting his cell phone out of his pocket. He looked up 'Bones' and rang it. The phone rang and rang and rang until it went through to voice mail.

 

Jim tried again.

 

And again.

 

After the fourth time he sent a text message asking Bones if he was alright.

 

The fifth time he left a voice mail to the same effect.

 

The sixth time, the phone didn't even ring, as it had been switched off.

 

* * *

 

 

The day passed in a melancholy drudge. Jim didn't talk to anyone and no one tried to talk to him. When the last pupil left in a fearful silence after Jim had yelled at them so much one girl had started crying, Jim immediately reached for his phone again.

 

No missed calls, no contact from Bones.

 

It was in desperation that he finally turned to the one person he wanted to ask for help from least. He had Jocelyn's number from arranging Bones' birthday party and he knew that if nothing else, she'd know where Leonard lived.

 

He dialled her number and waited. Jocelyn picked up on the second ring.

 

"Look, I know why you're calling," she said the moment she picked up. Jim didn't even respond so she continued. "I don't believe he did it and I'm not sure anyone who knows Leonard would believe he did it either. So I'm not going to stop him seeing Joanna if that's what you're worried about."

 

Jim sat down on his desk chair with a soft sigh and tried not to think too hard about what he was about to ask.

 

"He's not answering his phone. I can't get through to him at all. If he's in police custody, I get it, but I don't think he is and I want to make sure he's okay," Jim said, his voice cracking when he got to the last word. Jocelyn made a small sound on the other end of the line.

 

"I know you do. You've only ever been looking out for him. Look, I don't know if Leonard's changed that much, but it used to be that he'd take off to his parent's ranch when things got tough. It's where the whole family goes in times of crisis. If you're going to find him anywhere, it'll be there," she said. Jim was on his feet instantly.

 

"Where is it?" he asked. Jocelyn told him the address and he jotted it down on a sticky note. The red pen blotched as he wrote the zip code, smearing like blood. He tore it off and stuck it in his pocket.

 

"I can't say he'll be pleased to see you," Jocelyn said. Jim made a noise in the back of his throat.

 

"When has Bones ever known what's good for him?" he replied. Jocelyn laughed tightly.

 

"Good luck, Jim Kirk. You're going to need it."

 

* * *

 

 

Jim pulled up at the ranch just before sundown. There were goddamn ponies. It was as country as Jim had imagined it to be. There were a number of cars pulled up in front of the house and as Jim stepped out, a dog started to bark on the porch.

 

The house was painted white, it had shutters, though all the curtains were drawn inside. Jim eyed the dog warily but it didn't snarl. The door on the porch opened and a woman stepped out. Her grey hair was clipped back and her eyes were red-rimmed.

 

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice sounding cracked and weary from crying. Jim took a few steps up to the porch.

 

"Hello ma'am. My name's Jim Kirk. I'm... I'm a teacher at the school Leonard works at," he explained. The woman put her hand to her chest and she looked balefully at the window to the house. She closed the door behind her and gestured for Jim to sit on the porch seat.

 

"I would invite you inside, but it's all a little too much in there right now," she said. Jim nodded and went to sit on the seat. It creaked under his weight. The dog, sensing he was no longer a threat, came to sit at his feet.

 

"I just wanted to check that... that you and Leonard were alright," he said. The woman sat down beside him and clasped her hands in her lap.

 

"I'm Leonard's mother," she said softly. "And I can say that Leonard is not alright."

 

Jim felt his heart clench. "If there's _anything_ I can do..."

 

"I don't think so, dear," she said softly. "My husband just died, and my son has been taken into police custody. My family is tearing itself apart in there trying to decide if he did it or not and I am _tired_."

 

Jim reached out and took her hand. She stared down at it for a moment before she pulled herself together enough to continue.

 

"Leonard's father was sick for a very long time. The kind of sick you don't get better from. And he _begged_ Leonard to end it for him. We looked into all kinds of treatments. We even wrote to _Dignitas_ in Switzerland, but by the time we made the decision, he was just too sick to travel," her voice bubbled and cracked over the words. Jim squeezed her hand tightly.

 

"He had a week left at most. Even without the morphine," she continued. Jim licked his lips, wondering what he could possibly say. "And if Leonard did do it, I wouldn't blame him at all. His father was so sick, Jim. It ate away at Leonard all the way to his core. We all became sick looking after him, you see. Illness like that, it strips away part of you, and you can't live while it's going on. You just exist, from day to day, and everyone becomes a carer rather than a parent or a child or a brother."

 

"I can't imagine, I'm sorry," Jim said, because he felt he had to say something. Mrs. McCoy looked at him with eyes full of grief.

 

"It's a good thing that you can't. And maybe, maybe when Leonard has grieved, he will forget. That's what I want for him. To forget this whole period," she said and hung her head. "It's terrible isn't it? That I would want him to forget his father's final moments?"

 

"I don't-" Jim began but then there was the sound of a car pulling up the private lane to the ranch. Mrs. McCoy got to her feet and stared down at the headlights. Jim glanced at her and then stepped aside.

 

The door opened to the front porch and a few other people that Jim assumed must have been McCoys, stepped out. As the car drew closer Jim identified it as Bones' car. Mrs. McCoy waited for it to pull up.

 

Bones stepped out and he looked terrible. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, what he must have been wearing when he was arrested on Sunday morning, and he was unshaved. His hair had a lank, greasy look to it that said he'd been a while without a shower as well.

 

Mrs. McCoy ran down the steps and threw herself into her son's arms, sobbing. Bones wrapped his arms around her and held onto her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder for a moment before he looked up.

 

Jim met his eyes and barely saw any recognition in them at all. Bones let go of his mother, exchanging a few quiet words with her before he walked up the steps to the porch. The rest of the family greeted him with varying degrees of courtesy and Bones reassured them that he'd been released after an in-depth autopsy had revealed that morphine overdose had _not_ been the primary cause of death.

 

Jim waited the whole time until he felt it was appropriate to say something. The moment came when the McCoys were all heading back inside.

 

"Bones-" he began. Bones turned and looked at Jim, as though just remembering he was there. His mother patted him on the shoulder and stepped inside, closing the door behind her as she did.

 

"You should leave," Bones said and Jim felt his stomach plummet.

 

"I just wanted to check-"

 

"This is none of your concern, Mr Kirk," Bones said and he was looking somewhere over Jim's shoulder. "You should go. Now."

 

Jim took a step forward and Leonard near-flinched. Jim stopped and stared, not knowing what to say or do to make this right.

 

"You shouldn't be here," Bones said and then turned and walked inside the house, leaving Jim and the dog on the porch.

 


	13. Frozen Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim hadn’t moved, even as everyone else did. Spock rested a hand briefly on his shoulder as he left. Nyota offered him a small smile of support. Leonard… Leonard just walked out without even looking at him.

The silence was so thick that Jim could taste it. It tasted much more bitter than the coffee cradled in his hands, and it made the scent of Nyota’s perfume smell sickly. His stomach churned.

No one looked at each other.

No one looked at Leonard.

Spock didn’t stand to give his usual daily briefing. He didn’t unclip his briefcase. He sipped a glass of water and stared pointedly at the table.

The bell ringing for the start of the day sent a shockwave through them. A scrape of chairs as they were pushed back, the shrieks of students heading to their classes, the clink of mugs as they were placed in the dishwasher. Finally the repeated slam of the office door as they each left.

Jim hadn’t moved, even as everyone else did. Spock rested a hand briefly on his shoulder as he left. Nyota offered him a small smile of support. Leonard… Leonard just walked out without even looking at him.

Jim sighed as the door slammed one more time and got to his feet. He moved to the sink and swished away the last of his coffee before putting his mug into the dishwasher and setting it to start its first cycle of the day.

It already felt like a long morning.

* * *

 

What _did_ you say to a man whose father was not just dead, but who had been suspected of his murder?

Jim had pondered that a lot over the few days. He knew the pain of losing a parent, but he had no idea how you even began to process being accused of murder. He wasn’t even sure that Leonard wanted to process it.

In fact, Jim was certain he was trying not to. Jim had given him his space for the first few days back, taking Nyota and Spock’s lead for a change and trying his best to be helpful and not obtrusive.

So far it had got him completely and utterly blanked. It was like Jim wasn’t even there. Like he had turned into a piece of the scenery. It was frustrating and Jim wasn’t sure he was patient enough to wait out Leonard’s strange game.

If Leonard decided he couldn’t date for a while, well, that was understandable, but Jim had no idea why he was cut out of the other man’s life completely.

It wasn’t until he got pulled into Pike’s office later that week that he realised that things were much worse than he’d ever thought they could be.

“Jim… they know,” Pike said, running a hand through his hair. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose, but they know.”

Jim frowned. “Who knows what?” he questioned. Pike raised an eyebrow.

“The kids, Jim. They’re not blind and they aren’t all stupid. They’ve seen the news and they’ve put two and two together out there. It doesn’t matter to them that he’s been proved innocent. He’s the murderer teacher now,” Pike said. Jim gritted his teeth.

“What do you want me to do about it, sir? He’s _innocent_ and we’ve _got_ to stand by him,” Jim protested. Pike nodded.

“I agree. That’s why we’re sending him home until all this blows over,” Pike got to his feet so that he could meet Jim’s eyes. Jim took a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Is that what’s best for Doctor McCoy, or what’s best for the school, sir?” he asked. Pike growled low in his throat.

“You know what, I’ve been at this school a goddamn longer time than you have and I’ll tell you one thing. No one has championed Doctor McCoy more than I have. Why else would you have been called in rather than just firing him when he first started failing as a teacher? But this is different, Jim, this requires so much more tact than I think you were born with. So let McCoy go home and work on sorting all this mess out,” Pike said, his blue eyes boring into Jim’s. It took a moment for Jim collect himself and then he nodded.

“I’ll tell McCoy to take a few days,” he said quietly. Pike made a noise of assent.

“It’s a damn shame. I thought there was a possibility that you might actually make good on your bet of turning around that department,” Pike said wistfully and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Make sure Doctor McCoy is alright, Jim, and keep the department ticking over. I’ll see about getting in a temporary replacement that isn’t completely useless.”

Jim didn’t say that he didn’t want a replacement. He didn’t say that he couldn’t get Leonard to talk to him at all. He didn’t say that he wanted nothing more than to help Leonard in any way, _anyway_ , that kept him close by… He turned on his heel and walked out. He needed a drink.

* * *

 

“Bones,” Jim greeted, stepping into the classroom. Leonard was sat at his desk. He had a pile of open books in front of him and a red pen in his hand, but there were no ink marks on the paper. He’d clearly just been sitting there staring at the clock, lost in thought.

Jim took another step forward, clearing his throat, wondering if Bones had perhaps not heard him come in. Leonard did look up then though, hazel eyes meeting Jim’s own and then skittering away again, seemingly content to look anywhere except at Jim.

Jim clenched his fists in his pockets.

“What can I do for you Jim?” Leonard asked, clicking the end of his pen once, twice, three times, absently. Jim began to fiddle with a quarter in his pocket.

“Just… wondering how it’s going,” Jim tried to keep his tone light. Days of being frozen out, going from a comfortable friend, to a jittery crush, to potential prisoner and now to… stone cold statue. It confused him and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Give him a problem in the classroom, give him a problem with his car, ask him about physics, he’d have been fine. But Jim couldn’t work out Leonard McCoy.

“Well, my father is dead, my own family is debating whether I did it or not and there’s only one person in the world who knows the truth,” Leonard said, his tone surprisingly unbitter compared to the words he was saying. Jim winced.

“We know you’re innocent, Bones,” he said carefully. Leonard looked at him, briefly, again. One of those trapped animal looks that Jim was starting to get annoyed by.

“Do you? Because I’m not sure I am, Jim,” Leonard said and he got to his feet, throwing his pen down. “I’m not sure if I did try to put that old bastard out of his misery. I know that I definitely gave him too much morphine. I was aware of what I was doing. I knew what it might do-“

“Stop it!” Jim pulled his hand out of his pocket and put it on Leonard’s shoulder. The other pulled away almost immediately, his mouth set in a grim line.

“You didn’t kill your father. You didn’t even attempt it. You’re innocent, Bones, they _let you go_. You think if there was any evidence to the contrary that they wouldn’t have kept you?” Jim reasoned, reaching out again to try and bridge the gap between them. Leonard allowed it this time, a firm grip on his elbow, but he still wouldn’t look Jim in the eye.

“I meant to Jim. You can’t even imagine what it’s been like…” he said. Jim moved forward, pulling Leonard against him and letting one arm wrap around the other’s shoulders. Leonard hesitantly rested his forehead against Jim’s shoulder.

“No, I can’t. I can’t imagine it. You’re right, Bones…” Jim replied, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say next. “Maybe… Maybe you should take some more time off? Get your head together?”

Leonard immediately tensed in his arms. “Don’t think I’m capable of doing my job Jim?”

“It’s not that,” Jim pulled away to look into Leonard’s eyes, but they were downturned and dull. “Pike just thinks-“

“Since when do you give a damn what Pike thinks? I can do my goddamn job!” Leonard disentangled himself completely. Jim tried not to get angry in response.

“I’m not saying you can’t, Bones, it’s just-“

“Just what?”

“It’s just the kids know!” Jim blurted. Leonard stilled, the anger draining out of him. “Pike thinks it’s just best if you… if you go home and lay low for a bit, you know, until things are less… crazy.”

Leonard looked at his desk, the red pen lying across the unmarked pages, and then pushed passed Jim. He grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him. Jim winced as the clock fell off the wall from the force.

He sat down in the chair that was still warm from Leonard’s body heat and rubbed his hands across his face.

He couldn’t leave it like this. He just couldn’t.

* * *

 

“Hey Bones! It’s Jim Kirk. Just wondering if you wanted to go for a drink tonight? No worries if you can’t make it though. I’ll, er, go with Nyota or something? Text me or something if you can make it?”

Jim felt pathetic. It wasn’t the first voice mail he’d left over the last few weeks and he was pretty sure that it wouldn’t be the last either. He threw his phone across his desk and tried not to think of Bones sat in his house, ignoring his phone when he saw Jim’s caller ID.

“We’re going for drinks tonight huh?” Nyota asked. Jim turned to the door, surprised to see her in his classroom. She smiled at him and walked over to a desk, sitting down on it. Jim glanced at his phone again.

“Take pity on me?” he asked. Nyota shook her head.

“Sorry, Kirk. Got plans,” she said. Jim sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Haven’t you spoken to Leonard since you suspended him?”

“I didn’t suspend him. I just… told him to take paid leave,” Jim said. Nyota sighed and folded her arms.

“So you haven’t spoken then,” she said. Jim frowned at her.

“Have you?” he asked. Nyota looked away for a moment then rolled her eyes and nodded.

“What. The. Fuck. Why will he return your calls but not mine?” Jim asked. Nyota licked her lips and glanced at the door before turning her body more towards Jim’s.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know, but in return, you’re going to promise me that you won’t act on this information,” Nyota said firmly. Jim nodded immediately. Even if he _did_ break his word to Nyota, she’d forgive him, and he was desperate for news on how Leonard was doing.

“Well… He’s been seeing Joanna a lot. Jocelyn relented with everything that was going on and he’s been spending a lot of time with her. In fact, it’s all he talks about,” Nyota said, shrugging. “He pretty much only talks about her and how great it is to have her back in his life so much with everything that’s gone on.”

Jim let out a sigh of relief. It sounded like Bones was doing alright.

“Sounds like I don’t need to do an intervention then,” Jim said, smiling. Somewhere deep inside though, he was hurt that Bones seemed unaffected by not having him around.

It wasn’t that he thought about McCoy constantly. He wasn’t _that_ obsessed. He just thought about him an _awful_ lot. It hadn’t affected his job performance, but when he got home in the evenings, and the record player played the Frank Sinatra record that Bones had put on that night…

“No, but don’t give up Jim,” Nyota  said. Jim looked at her and put on his best false smile.

“I won’t,” he said. Besides, even though he suspected now more than ever that things were never going to work between him and McCoy, he wasn’t sure _how_ to give up.

“He’ll call… eventually,” Nyota reassured and Jim just nodded. He picked up the red pen on his desk and clicked it.

“Well, better stop moping and get on with this marking,” he said with fake cheer. Nyota didn’t look convinced but she knew a dismissal when she heard one. She walked to the door and paused with her hand on the door knob.

“The two of you were good for each other… You’ve just got to wait for Leonard to remember it, that’s all,” she said.

Jim didn’t reply.


	14. Trashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“What.”

Leonard didn’t even make it a question. He could see Jocelyn watching him from the corner of her eye. The way she used to when she wanted to say something but wouldn’t. He’d been married to her long enough to recognise that look.

“Nothing,” she tried and Leonard looked up from the somewhat complicated courtly drama that Joanna was acting out with her teddy bears to give her a long knowing look. She tried not to meet his eyes by looking down at her cell.

“Out with it,” he said. Jocelyn sighed and lowered her phone, regarding him carefully for a moment.

“Have you started speaking to people at work again?” she asked. Leonard knew where this was going and he knew he could feign ignorance long enough for her to drop it if he was careful.

“I speak to Nyota all the time. And Scotty about once a week. Chapel occasionally,” he said, before realising that he’d left himself wide open for an attack from an angle he didn’t want.

“Not Jim then?” she asked. Goddamn her interfering-

“I have nothing to say to him,” he replied stonily, hoping his tone would bely how little he wanted to talk about this with Jocelyn.

The truth was that he had no idea what to do about the situation between him and Jim. Jim had seen him at his weakest and Leonard knew that there was a limit to how much someone would put up with. Even for Jim Kirk. Stains like Leonard’s didn’t come out in the wash and Jim had seen so much of his dirty laundry that Leonard felt ashamed at how much he’d shared with a man he’d only known for about half a year.

“You were always so good at shutting everyone out,” Jocelyn said and Leonard grimaced, sensing another fight starting.

It didn’t though. Jocelyn didn’t make a personal jab. She looked thoughtful, tucking her hair behind her ear as she watched Joanna play.

“The day he found out you were arrested, he rang me. Desperate to find you. He’s a good friend, Len, it’d be a shame to lose him over your damn McCoy pride,” she said. Leonard thought about that day, about seeing Jim waiting for him on that porch, eyes full of worry and sadness.

“I kissed him,” Leonard blurted. Jocelyn fumbled her phone and it fell to the ground. She cast a quick look at Joanna but it was clear that she was too engrossed in the Tales of the Kingdom of Bunnytopia to pay attention to her boring parent’s conversation.

“Well, that explains a bit,” Jocelyn said after a moment’s silence. Leonard waited for her to continue. “Like why you’re an idiot – more so than usual.”

“Joss, I don’t want to be rude, but this ain’t your concern,” he said. Jocelyn laughed softly.

“Damn right it isn’t. And don’t get me wrong, we aren’t at a stage where we can get all girly and talk about the guys we bang and paint each other’s nails,” she said, fixing him with a level stare. Leonard opened his mouth to interrupt but she silenced him. “But I’ll say this – if your Pops hadn’t gone, would you have treated him like this? Didn’t you like him enough to take it beyond kissing or whatever? Wouldn’t you have pursued a relationship with him?”

Leonard didn’t want to think in hypotheticals. What ifs were useless and denied the hard facts of reality. What ifs led to regrets and, if he wasn’t careful, the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He couldn’t afford that right now, not now he was finally getting to see Joanna more.

“Pa died. Jim Kirk suspended me. That happened. Regardless of anything else, there are some things that impact everything too much to recover from,” he said. Jocelyn pursed her lips.

“I’ll only say this before I drop the subject. There are people in this world who will do everything in their power to make it a better place for people, and sometimes they do fuck up, but overall their success rate is better than their failure rate. From what I can tell, Jim Kirk is one of those people. He did a lot for you Len, so don’t treat him like a pariah because _you_ feel like a failure.”

True to her word, she dropped the subject, picking up her phone again and leaving the room. Leonard heard her in the kitchen making coffee.

The subject was dropped.

But Leonard still couldn’t stop thinking about Jim Kirk.

* * *

 

“HOW DID IT END UP LIKE THIS? IT WAS ONLY A KISS! IT WAS ONLY A KISS!”

Nyota rubbed her temples tiredly. Karaoke had seemed like the perfect thing to lift Jim’s spirits a few hours ago. Now it felt like a migraine had started and the pressure just kept building.

Sulu was looking at her with eyes that begged for mercy but she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.

Finally Spock stood up and took the microphone away from Jim. Jim grinned at him, probably thinking that Spock was going to sing, but Spock merely discarded the microphone and firmly guided Jim back to his seat.

There were more than a few empty shot glasses on the table but there was also a glass of water. Scotty helpfully put it in front of Jim, ordering him to ‘drink up laddie’ and guiding Jim’s alcohol clumsy hand to it.

Other than Spock and Nyota, no one else knew the true reason for Jim’s alcohol spurge. They had never been truly privy to what had happened between Jim and Leonard and the others had never even truly been told the other two were seeing each other. As far as Nyota was aware, they thought that Jim had just decided to get wasted for fun.

Unfortunately, Jim was the _only_ one who had got wasted.

“I’m gonna make a phone call,” Jim slurred. Nyota watched as he held up his phone in front of his face and squinted at it, trying to use one finger to slowly key in his passcode. She deftly plucked it from his grasp.

“Hey!” he protested, making an uncoordinated attempt to get it back.

“No way. In your state? I’m going to save you from yourself,” she said. Jim pouted.

“Did you hear earlier? Pike’s predicting a full department review from the higher ups before year’s end,” Sulu said, eager to turn the conversation to _anything_ other than Jim’s drunken ramblings. Spock nodded and was about to speak when Jim lunged for his phone once more. Nyota pulled the phone away only for Jim to knock over the water between them, sending it cascading over the edges of the table. Spock stood up immediately, staring impassively down at his now water soaked crotch. Jim just slumped over the table in the puddle he’d made.

Water pooled around his face.

“Fuck Pike,” he said. Sulu peered at him incredulously before looking back to Nyota.

“Thanks for your professional input, Jim,” she said, grabbing some napkins and trying to mop up the water around Jim’s face. Jim belched.

“We need Bones back if we’re gonna be inspected,” he said, as though the belch were merely a way to clear his throat. Nyota raised here eyebrows, pausing as she dabbed at the table.

“While that is no doubt in _your_ best interests, it might not help the department,” Spock said levelly. Jim groaned.

“What’s the point of gettin’ inspected if we aren’t a full team? We’re a better department when Bones is there… Supply teachers won’t be the same,” Jim pulled his head off the table, droplets running down his cheek.

“All hail the great sage for he has spoken,” Sulu muttered. Nyota tried to wipe Jim’s face. He truly was completely gone.

“Are you trying to pick a fight?” Jim asked and Nyota lost her patience.

“Guess it’s time for you and me to go,” she said. Jim tried to protest, but Nyota had Spock help her manoeuvre Jim to a cab. She pecked Spock on the cheek, aware that he wasn’t a fan of PDA, and then told the driver Jim’s address.

In the back seat it seemed like Jim was already asleep.

“Will he puke?” the driver asked. Nyota looked at Jim, slumped over, damp and looking dishevelled.

“50/50. I wouldn’t turn the corners too fast,” she said. The driver’s mouth turned down, but he pulled away in any case.

“He will be okay,” Spock said. Nyota looked up at him, wondering where that quiet confidence came from. “It’ll take more than rejection to stop Jim Kirk.”

* * *

 

Leonard didn’t really know what he was looking at.

_[Buoys took my phone earlier. I’m very drink]_

_[Buoys]_

_[Buoys* Fuck you auto correct]_

_[Nyota*]_

He pondered ignoring it but he was curious. He’d never been someone’s drunk text before. He wasn’t sure what to do about it.

_[Been out drinking? You home safe?]_

There. That seemed safe and not overtly friendly. It showed that Leonard didn’t want Jim to be harmed and was responsible, without being too encouraging. Three little dots appeared at the bottom of the screen to let him know that Jim was replying.

_[Yeah. You should have been there. It was weeks me.]_

_[Awesome]_

_[Karaoke]_

Leonard couldn’t imagine anything worse but he knew that Jim was probably too drunk to remember that he wasn’t exactly the ‘up and singing’ kind.

He was still pondering what to reply when a new message came through.

_[Can I call you?]_

Leonard really wasn’t sure that was a good idea. But Jim seemed so drunk, he probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning… And if Leonard was being truthful, he wanted to talk to Jim. He wanted to hear his voice. What was the harm in that?

_[I guess]_

Moments later his phone was ringing. He took a deep breath and answered it.

“McCoy,” he said. He heard Jim on the other end draw breath.

“Damn, I forgot how sexy your voice is,” Jim slurred. Leonard winced. Jim sounded even more drunk than Leonard thought he was.

“Jim, tell me you didn’t ring me to tell me that,” he said. Jim laughed and hiccupped at the same time. Leonard hoped he wasn’t about to vomit.

“Nah. This isn’t a booty call… Unless you want it to be. Then it can totally be a booty call,” Jim said. Leonard felt his stomach clench. Desire warred with pride and shame and his fist clenched tightly around the phone.

“Jim,” he began, but Jim interrupted him.

“I really miss you at work, y’know? It isn’t the same without your sexy scowl in the mornings,” he said. Leonard rubbed at his temple with his free hand.

“Jim, I think-“

“I think about you all the time. Freaky, right? One date and one kiss and I’m like a school kid,” he rambled. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Leonard nearly threw the phone across the room. He couldn’t do this. His father had just died, his relationship with his ex-wife was just starting to repair itself, half his family had turned their back on him and he’d been suspended from his job for suspected murder. He couldn’t deal with Jim’s shit on top.

“I think we should just be friends,” he forced out. There was silence from the other end for a long moment then a long, shaky sigh.

“Wow. I really did get it all wrong huh?” Jim said after a moment. “Well, you can’t blame me. _You_ did ask _me_ on a date. And then _you_ did kiss _me_ on that date. I guess I just thought you wanted to take it somewhere. I don’t really do relationships so it was all kind of new to me. Won’t make that mistake again.”

Leonard didn’t know how to take the strange mix of bitterness and sarcasm coming at him. In some ways it was worse than if Jim had screamed at him or come round to the ranch and punched him.

“Well, I won’t keep you. Sorry for ringing so late, McCoy.”

Jim had hung up before Leonard had a chance to reply.

* * *

* * *

 

Leonard stepped back into Enterprise High with a sense of trepidation. He didn’t know how he’d be welcomed back. Pike had officially written to him to invite him to continue work, but that didn’t mean that attitudes had changed that much.

He hadn’t spoken to Jim since the night of the phone call.

He got into his classroom, prepared his lessons and then sat at his chair, staring at the clock as it ticked closer and closer to the start of the day. Normally this would have been the point where he’d have headed to the office and Jim would have put a fresh coffee into his hand while they caught up about the weekend.

But Leonard wasn’t that brazen.

He considered what to do with his sudden free time when the door opened.

Jim was pushing the door open with his hip, precariously carrying two mugs of coffee with a pastry bag hanging from his mouth. Leonard stood up, rushing to help him.

When he took the coffee, he felt his fingers brush against Jim’s. He swallowed as a flash of electric longing went through him. He nearly fumbled the mug but saved it by using his other hand to grab the handle. He looked up at Jim, but the other was looking down as he took the pastry bag from his mouth.

“Figured you’d be in the here, brooding, so I came to get you,” Jim said, holding out the pastry bag. Leonard took it, despite the teeth marks at the top, and looked inside. His favourite was nestled in the bag.

He felt like even more of an asshole than he had already.

“I wasn’t brooding,” he said. Jim rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Everyone’s waiting for you so you better eat that fast,” Jim said. Leonard wondered if the cheer and friendliness was real or a cover up? Had Jim really gotten over it that fast?

“Jim…” he began but Jim turned to go.

“C’mon Bones! Everyone’s waiting!” he said. Leonard looked at his back. He was sure he’d made the right choice. Jim didn’t deserve someone with his kind of baggage and Leonard couldn’t let go of the past enough to move on so quickly.

But it still felt wrong.

He said nothing and followed Jim to the meeting, putting on a fake smile and sipping his coffee without making eye contact with anyone in the room.

* * *

 

Jim didn’t know how to handle the whole situation, so he went with what he could do. He could make things awkward, and sulk and not speak, or he could try to be Bones’ friend. It felt strange, to be aiming for friendship when he wanted more, but it was better than being completely cut out of the other’s life.

He contemplated what to do at lunch. He could go in to Bones again and try to make the awkward small talk or he could just go to the office and sit with Nyota and Spock. Neither really appealed but he supposed that the one that would further his goal would be to spend it with Bones. Even if it was awkward at first, it wouldn’t be eventually.

He grabbed his lunch from his desk and made his way to Bones’ classroom. The door was ajar so he pushed it open, plastering a fake smile on his face even though he wanted to crawl out of there from the embarrassment he felt.

His smile dropped.

The room was a mess. Jim stared around. Papers were scattered all over the floor, tables and chairs were upturned. Glass flasks had been smashed. Scrawled across the whiteboard at the front of the room were the words ‘DADDY KILLER’.

Jim put his lunchbox down and glanced at the clock. Bones wasn’t there, and this could have been done when he was out of his room if he’d forgotten to lock the door. Jim walked to his desk, checking the timetable there. Bones wasn’t due to teach again until the final lesson of the day, with any luck Jim could… get rid of all this before he got back.

He went to wipe the board off first but groaned when he realised that it had been written in permanent marker. Of course it had. He began to scrub at it in frustration but only managed to make his arm tired.

He looked around, wondering if there was some kind of acid or something he could use, but Bones’ room was set up for biology, not chemistry, and the best Jim had was his own bottle of water. He decided he’d come back to it later and started righting the furniture instead.

He found the skeleton that was Bones’ namesake strewn across the back of the room. Its tibia or whatever it was called was snapped and the skull had been smashed into pieces. Jim started to gather together the bits when he heard the door open.

He looked up, seeing Bones stood there, lunch in hand. The man took the room in, eyes fixating on the board for a moment before he turned to see Jim crouched at the back, holding the pieces of skull in his hands carefully.

“I… You don’t have to stay. I can fix this up,” Jim said, feeling the silence growing between them. Bones shook his head, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. He placed his lunchbox next to Jim’s own and walked over to his desk, slumping in it and putting his head in his hands.

“I need to leave,” he said. Jim felt his heart lurch.

“Nah you don’t. We can fix this all up, Bones. Get some board cleaner and some glue and it’ll all be-“

“No it won’t be alright Jim. It’s never going to be alright. There are some things that you just can’t fix with a bit of glue and spit-shine,” he said. Jim stood up, putting the shards of skull on the workbench and dusting off his pants legs. He had a feeling that Bones wasn’t necessarily talking about the skeleton and the board anymore.

“I don’t know. Sometimes things look really broken, but it’s not so bad. Or sometimes they need replacing with something better,” he said. Bones looked up at him, fixing him with a lost looking stare.

“You’re right. I don’t want to change schools. I want to stay here,” he said, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “But it’s probably for all the wrong reasons.”

Jim put his hands in his pockets. “What does it matter what your reasons are? You’re a good teacher. The department would miss you.”

Bones grunted and dropped his hand. “I wouldn’t be staying for the department.”

“Well the kids then, Bones. Whatever you reasons are they can’t be that bad,” he replied and walked over to his lunch. He picked up the apple, tossing it from hand to hand as he spoke.

“I wouldn’t want to stay for the kids either,” Bones replied and Jim tossed the apple from right to left, left to right.

“Well whatever. Look. It’s up to you. I can help you clean this up if you want?” Jim asked. Bones seemed to think about it for a long time then he finally stood up.

“Shall we?” Bones asked after a moment. Jim nodded and put the apple down again. For a while they cleaned in silence, picking up stacks of papers and sweeping away smashed glass. Then Jim started to hum to break the silence. Bones whistled along for a few beats before he realised what he was doing, but when Jim glanced at him, he just smiled.

Jim looked down at the broken skeleton on the floor.

“I promised I wouldn’t bring it up again,” he said. Bones paused where he was stood. “I promised I’d let it drop because you don’t feel the same way. But I just want to… to see if there’s more than just this that we can fix, y’know?”

Bones swallowed. Jim watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“Bones, will you go on a date with me? Will you give me a chance to… I don’t know. Not fix you but… support you through this? Because dude, I fancy the pants off you and I just don’t see how I’m going to ever be able to work with you if-“ Bones held up a hand to silence Jim and he snapped his mouth shut, waiting patiently for the answer.

Bones took a while to think about it. “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“No it’s not. Trust me,” Jim replied, still holding his breath.

“I’m messed up, kid. I’ve got baggage on my baggage. I’ve got so many issues that I’m pretty much certifiable-“

“I know. So have I.”

“And Joanna-“

“Is adorable.”

“Damnit Jim! Let me finish a sentence!” he complained, but his eyes were smiling. Jim found himself smiling in response.

“Well, I guess I’ll pick you up Friday night at 8 then?” he suggested. Bones rolled his eyes but Jim caught the slight nod. It was followed by grumbling about flashy physics teachers who wouldn’t take no for an answer, but that was okay.

Because Bones was _smiling_.


	15. Baggage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh yeah. You’ve got a thing for that Southern accent, haven’t you?” he said, his accent thickening as he spoke, getting lower and lower until all the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck stood on end.

Jim fussed with his hair. It didn’t matter that Bones saw him every day, he still wanted to look… nice. He stared at himself in the mirror, running fingertips over his cheeks and clucking his tongue at acne scars he thought he’d long ago given up caring about. He stared at himself for a moment before putting his hand over his eyes.

This was not helping.

He returned to his room and began to pace. It was 18:24, a full half hour before he could leave to drive out to McCoy ranch and pick up Bones. He was dressed, just a simple shirt unbuttoned over a t-shirt and jeans, but it was clean and he’d even touched an iron to make sure that it didn’t have wrinkles. He felt good about his choices.

He just…

He was aware at how pushy he had been. He was aware of how his behaviour just wasn’t acceptable. Bones had given him the clear message to back the fuck off, and he hadn’t. He’d kept ploughing forward, Kirk style, and now he wondered – just why had Bones agreed? Was he even going to treat this like a date? Was it an obligation?

Was Bones even that into him?

He walked over to his phone.

18:26.

He swiped to unlock it, typing 1701 into the touch screen and opening his contacts. He could call Nyota, whine at her for a while until it was time to go? He scrolled down and when he got to ‘N’ he paused. Beneath it was…

The last communication he’d had with Winona Kirk had been almost 6 months ago, when he’d first moved to Georgia. The conversation had been brief. ‘How’s the travelling?’ ‘How’s the work?’ ‘You having a house-warming party?’ ‘Oh I’ll try to visit some time soon’. Empty, meaningless conversation that had done nothing to make Jim feel less alone.

Now though…

18:29.

Jim pressed his mother’s name, holding his breath for a moment. Before the call connected, he could still bail out, but he didn’t. He heard it ring even before he put it to his ear. Three rings, four rings, five… the voicemail was about to kick in when-

“Jim! It’s been months!” Winona’s voice came down the phone, light and flowing. Jim swallowed.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat and sitting on his bed.

“So what is it you need?” she asked. In the background Jim could hear a busy street and a screaming argument between a man and a woman. Winona’s life was always full of noise. Sometimes Jim envied it, especially at times like these when he was lost within his own thoughts.

He’d competed with his mother on an intellectual level, on the level of achievement. He’d risen faster, gone further, aimed for more and more and more – but sometimes he thought that Winona was happier with what she had managed to achieve. By the time she was his age, Winona had a husband she adored, a child who loved her and one more on the way, a home and a stable job at a top pharmaceutical firm. She’d adventured, but then settled without settling. And since his father had died, Winona had used the money she was given to travel the world and see all the things that she and George Kirk had talked about seeing.

Jim was jealous.

“I just… wanted to talk,” Jim said, hoping it didn’t sound as lost as he felt. Winona made a noise somewhere in the back of her throat.

“Well, now’s not a great time, Jim. I mean, it’s early morning here and I’m in a bar,” she said as the shouting got louder in the background. “Can I call back later?”

Jim forced a smile on his face, even though Winona couldn’t see it. “I’m going out later. It’s alright. I’ll call again when you’re less busy.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone. “ _Disculpe_ Marta, can I use the back room? I swear, it’s a family emergency… It’s got to be. Jim’s called.”

“Hey! I don’t only call when there’s a family emergency!” Jim squawked. Winona made a scoffing sound down the phone and then there was the sound of a door shutting and the sound of shouting muffled.

“Yeah, well, last time I saw you was your grandfather’s funeral… I’d say it isn’t unusual for you to only call in a crisis,” she replied. Jim bit his lip.

“Has it really been that long?” he asked. Winona let out a sound that might have been a laugh but could just have easily been a cough.

“Five years, Jimmy,” she replied. Jim put his face in his hands.

“I bet you’re all grey and wrinkly now,” he said, unable to stop the dig at his mother. Winona made a noise in agreement.

“Pretty much. I don’t expect you to be ‘the good son’, or anything though. Family is just not a real Kirk thing in any case. Just I’m going to assume the worst if you ring out of the blue,” she said. Jim flopped back on the bed.

“I just wanted to… talk to someone. I’m waiting to go on a date and was overthinking,” he said. He could hear Winona was pacing on the other end of the line.

“So I’m a boredom reliever? Well, I’m happy to help if it gets me out of listening to them go at it for a few more minutes,” she replied. Jim smiled. “So what’s she like?”

“Er…” Jim began. His mother had never shared his Uncle Frank’s ideals about the whole ‘gay’ thing, but at the same time, he hadn’t ever explicitly told her himself. “ _He_ is a colleague at school.”

Winona didn’t miss a beat. “A teacher? That’s great Jim. He good-looking?”

Jim let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “In all the ways a Southern gent should be, Mom. He’s got _hazel_ eyes, like who the fuck even _has_ hazel eyes? Don’t they just write about them in books or something?”

“Well, that sounds promising. When are you going to send a picture to your old Ma so she can have something to keep her warm at night, hm?” she asked. Jim pulled a face.

“That’s gross. I’m not sending you a picture of Bones so you can have creepy old lady fantasies,” he said. Winona laughed.

“ _Bones?_ You call him _Bones_ and you don’t want dirty insinuations made?” she asked. Jim shook his head.

“He used to be a surgeon, he’s a biology teacher, he has a skeleton in his classroom… Why am I explaining this to you?” he asked. Winona’s laughter was like a bell down the line.

“Because this is our twice yearly call, Jim, where you tell me everything that’s up with you and promise you’ll ring in a few weeks time and never do. This is what we do,” she said matter-of-factly. Jim felt guilt settle in his gut.

“Phones work both ways, Mom,” he reminded her. Winona made a humming noise.

“I lost the right to contact you long ago, Jim,” she said solemnly. “When Sam ran away and Frank kicked you out. I lost the right to be your mother. I wasn’t there for you and you didn’t want me there when I did come back. So I’m always here, but you’ve got to reach out to me. I don’t want to mess up your lives more than they already are.”

“Bullshit,” Jim said tonelessly. “You’re just a coward who thought I looked too much like my dad.”

“Perhaps,” Winona conceded. There was silence for a moment.

“Mom… Am I the kind of person you could settle down with?” he asked. Winona drew her breath to answer, then paused. Finally she let it out and Jim could hear her running her hands through her hair.

“Kirks aren’t settlers. We travel. We expand our horizons. We stare things in the face and we don’t back down. Kirks aren’t the kind you settle down with. They’re the kind you strap yourself onto and hope not to get burned by,” she said. Jim licked his lips.

“That was such a mixed set of metaphors,” he said.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? Do you really want to settle? You saw half the world before you were thirty. Don’t you want to see the other half of it?” she asked. “Is this about this doctor?”

“There are some people worth settling down for, aren’t there? Some people who it isn’t so bad to… to take a chance on?” Jim asked. “Even if you’re not sure that you’re the right one for them?”

“It sounds to me like this is more than a date, Jim. Are you going to ask him to marry you or something? I’m not sure they allow that in Georgia? Unless things have really changed since I was last in America,” Winona replied. Jim stared at a spot on his ceiling where the paint had been touched up.

“I never thought I could fall in love Mom. I promised myself that I wouldn’t because look at what happened to you and dad. That wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t fair on anyone. Forever seems terrifying…” he said.

When Winona spoke, he could almost hear her smile. “You are an amazing man, James Kirk. One of the best, just like your father. And if you need my blessing to go after this _Bones_ , if you need someone to tell you that it’s okay to fall in love with him, then that’s what I’ll do. It’s okay, Jim. You can go on a date with a man you really, really like and the world won’t end. You’ll be fine.”

Jim felt a weight lift off him. He hadn’t known why he’d rang his mother, hadn’t considered what his problem was, why he felt so strange when he should have been happy. But hearing her say the words, he suddenly know.

“Thanks Mom. I better go. I’m meant to be at the ranch in an hour,” he said, sitting up and stretching.

“Phone me soon, okay?” Winona asked. Jim smiled.

“Sure Mom, I’ll phone you next week.”

Winona sighed as she hung up and Jim wrote a post-it note out and stuck it to his dresser. It read: ‘Phone Winona Kirk and tell her how the date went.’

* * *

 

Leonard held his arms out and turned dutifully. His mother looked him up and down and then stood up. She began to fuss over his hair and he dutifully bowed it so she could arrange it however it was that she was trying to. She probably knew more about this kind of thing than he did.

“I wish you’d tell me more about this date of yours. I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl and you don’t need to hide her identity,” she grouched. Leonard kept his face impassive.

“I don’t need you interfering yet. I know you’ve worked out how to use the internet and I have no desire to see you making Facebook friends with someone this early on,” he said. His mother clucked her tongue.

“I wouldn’t be so tactless. I would be far more likely to trace her family tree and make sure she didn’t come from bad stock,” she replied. Leonard straightened and rolled his eyes.

“The family is fine. All respectable. Father was military. Mother was a scientist who now travels the world doing incredibly middle-class things,” he said. Eleanora’s mouth thinned.

“Republicans?” she asked. Leonard held his hands up.

“I don’t know. Unless you’re planning to run for office and you’re not telling me, I’m not sure what his family’s political background has got to do with anything,” he said. Eleanora took a step backwards and looked up at him.

“Well, I’m going to guess _he_ is probably fairly liberal,” she said. Leonard blinked at her for a moment then realised his slip.

“Oh for-“ he put his hand to his forehead. He was terrible with playing the pronoun game, but that had been a monumental fuck-up even for him. His mother raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t take that tone with _me_ Leonard. Your father may have thought you were straight as an arrow, but I know you were a little too close to that Michaels boy when you were in high school,” she said. Leonard swallowed and tried not to look too cornered.

“Well, there you go. We’ve narrowed it down to 50% of the adult population of Atlanta. Now enough with the questions,” he said. Eleanora gave him another look up and down.

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to do. I’m sure Jim Kirk sees you every day of the week, so making an effort now will just look like you’re trying too hard,” she replied. Leonard stared at her, trying to stop his own eyebrow from creeping up to mirror her own.

“I never said anything about Jim Kirk,” he said. Eleanora patted his cheek.

“Oh you didn’t have to, Leo. I saw the way he looked at you when he came to the ranch. But hey, he’s as handsome as Jocelyn was pretty and there’s something to be said for your taste.”

Leonard heard the car pull up onto the drive and grabbed his wallet.

“Don’t wait up… And I never confirmed it was Jim Kirk!”

“Uh huh. Well, tell Jim not to be a stranger, yeah? Bring him over for dinner some time!”

Leonard tried not to slam the door behind him.

* * *

Jim was surprised when Leonard threw himself into the passenger seat looking like a black cloud was sitting on his shoulder. He felt all the confidence he’d managed to get from his mother start to ebb away as he looked at Bones’ scowl.

“Just drive. Please,” the other man growled. Jim nodded and pulled out of the ranch without a word. For a while they drove in silence, before Jim couldn’t take it anymore. He opened his mouth to make conversation but at that moment Bones reached out to turn the radio on.

Etta James’ crooning filled the car.

Jim shut his mouth again.

They were on the edges of Atlanta before long and Jim began to wonder if he’d made a complete error and should have just bowed out gracefully when Bones turned to him.

“I just accidentally came out to my mother,” he said. Jim glanced at him before looking back at the road.

“She okay with it?” he asked. Bones leaned his head back against the headrest.

“She guessed my date was you in the next goddamn sentence. Is it a thing for _everyone_ to know my business?” he asked. Jim licked his lips, trying to work out if there was a correct answer to it.

“I guess you wanted to keep it private huh?” he asked. Bones looked at him for a long time.

“Private, yes. Secret, no. I’m glad I don’t have to lie to her, but I don’t like what I’m doing to be common knowledge. Some things are just… between two people,” he said. Jim felt something warm settle in his chest.

“I can understand that,” he said. “I’m the kind of person who… who likes to shout things at the world I guess. I mean, everyone knows I’m stupidly infatuated with you. I didn’t even have to open my mouth about it.”

Bones’ mouth quirked up into a small smile. “You were pretty obvious, kid.”

Jim grunted in response. “And yet it’s taken me this long to get you on a second date. I’m losing my touch.”

“You’re not losing your touch. I’m just good at playing hard to get. No easy lays here, darlin’,” Bones replied and Jim felt his mouth go dry. _Darlin_ ’. Now that was new. He glanced at Bones to see the other was smirking at him.

“Quit the dirty talk, Doctor, or we aren’t going to make it to the restaurant at all,” he said. Bones’ smile widened.

“Oh yeah. You’ve got a thing for that Southern accent, haven’t you?” he said, his accent thickening as he spoke, getting lower and lower until all the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck stood on end.

“Jesus, if you want a quickie in the back of the car just say so and I will pull over. If not, shut your mouth before I crash,” he teased. Bones laughed and looked out the window. Jim felt his skin temperature begin to turn to normal as Bones laid off. He didn’t know if he was disappointed or not.

“So where are we headed?” he asked. Jim shrugged.

“A bar. You already ate right?” Jim checked. Bones nodded. “Good. But yeah, it’s just a bar. I thought it would be better for us to actually see if… if this is a thing we both want if there’s a less formal atmosphere.”

Bones was silent for a moment and then he reached forward. His hand was warm on Jim’s thigh, seeming hot through his jeans. Jim felt his heart thud painfully in his chest.

“Jim, I don’t mind where we go but you didn’t have to worry about me not wanting this. The timing is… poor. That’s the only thing that’s stopped me from dating you. I like you, kid,” he said. Jim took his eyes off the road, knowing he needed to see Bones’ face.

He could see it. The sincerity. The way that Bones’ eyes had softened, more green than brown, his mouth not turned down like usual. His shoulders were relaxed, like the confession was a weight off his mind. Jim swallowed.

“I’m not used to people liking me that much once they get to know me,” he said, turning his gaze back to the road. Bones squeezed his thigh.

“Yeah, well I like you _because_ I got to know you, and that makes me worth ten of them,” he replied. Jim hesitantly lowered his hand from the steering wheel, his hand resting on top of Bones’ for a moment.

“Let’s go drinking, Jim,” Bones said softly and Jim smiled.

“Yes sir.”

* * *

They stumbled through the door to Jim’s house giggling. Jim held onto the doorframe, shoring himself up as best he could. Leonard leaned against the wall, hand over his mouth as though to hold in the laughter.

“Did you see the taxi driver’s face? Jesus Jim, you’ve got to watch what you say. He looked like he was going to kick us out,” Leonard scolded, though his heart didn’t seem in it. Jim closed the door and kicked off his shoes.

“Yeah well, it was funny!” he said. Leonard crouched down to unlace his shoes, pulling them off and wriggling his toes. Jim tumbled into the lounge, and Leonard followed him. He spent a moment admiring Jim’s carefree smile before he headed straight for the record player.

He rifled through the vinyl until he found something appropriate. It had been playing on the radio earlier, when Leonard had been trying to break the stifling silence, and it seemed so fitting. He pulled it out of the sleeve, setting it on the player and setting it going with a crackle as he lowered the needle.

_At last… my love has come along…_

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out a hand to Jim. Jim stared at him for a moment before he moved closer. It was awkward at first, Jim not knowing where to put his arms and Leonard trying to guide them both with clumsy, half drunken movements.

Even so they soon fell into a rhythm. The soft melody and their own breathing were the only sounds in the room. Leonard could feel Jim starting to relax against him, could feel the beat of his heart against his chest. He ducked his head down and, without thinking, pressed a kiss to the side of Jim’s neck.

Jim turned his head, looking at him with bright blue eyes that were all at once excited and seemingly afraid. Leonard didn’t know what Jim was afraid of, but he wasn’t given much time to think about it. Jim’s mouth pressed against his cheek, trailing down to his jaw, across to his lips. For a moment Jim’s mouth ghosted over his own and Leonard remembered in sudden Technicolor brilliance how fantastic it had been to claim that mouth for himself all those weeks ago.

He slid his hand up to Jim’s neck and pulled. Jim’s mouth pressed against his more firmly and he used his other hand to slide up Jim’s back under his clothes. There was a moment when Jim seemed to push against him, but then Jim was sliding a tongue into his mouth and letting out a soft groan.

Dancing forgotten they soon ended up on the couch, Jim’s hands ruining all of Eleanora’s good work on Leonard’s hair earlier and Leonard divesting Jim of his shirt. He wasn’t too surprised to find that James Kirk was fairly ripped underneath his clothing, though he was glad to get a chance to touch. He ran his fingers down Jim’s chest, over his solar plexus, down the line that led to his navel. Jim breathed in and laughed softly.

“Careful I’m ticklish,” he said and Leonard smiled in return, leaning forward to kiss his way down the trail his fingers had explored. His other hand slid around Jim, running over his shoulder blades and own his spine.

He frowned when his fingers caught on something. It was a ridge, long and out of place on the smooth skin on Jim’s back. He felt Jim still against him and glanced up.

“Something we don’t need to talk about now?” he suggested. Jim looked at him and then shook his head.

“I wasn’t joking when I said we both had baggage,” he replied. Leonard leaned back against the couch and Jim followed him down. He could feel Jim’s erection pressing against his thigh, and he wasn’t doing much better. His trousers felt uncomfortably tight. Still, Jim tucked himself onto his shoulder and looked up at him, lips swollen and eyes showing that strange fear again.

“Is it alright to stop?” Jim asked. Leonard made a noise of protest but his arms tightened around Jim in any case.

“Darlin’, if you want to keep it at kissin’, I ain’t going to pressure you into doin’ otherwise,” he said. Jim nodded and his hands began to trace patterns on Leonard’s chest.

“I’m just… I want to… My mom said all this stuff earlier about how Kirks don’t settle down and we don’t do slow or steady. We’re… we’re like stars or supernovas or something. We just… We don’t do stuff like this and… There’s a lot you don’t know and I’m-“ Leonard leaned forward and kissed Jim’s forehead, causing the other to stop his babble. When he drew back, Jim was staring up at him.

“You’re in love with me,” Leonard said. Jim licked his lips and then slowly nodded. Leonard smiled and brushed his lips against Jim’s softly, then more insistently. Jim moaned and his hips pressed against Leonard’s hip firmly before he seemed to remember himself and break the kiss.

“You’re also afraid that I’m just going to leave,” Leonard stated. Jim looked away.

“Kirks don’t settle down,” he repeated and Leonard sighed.

“But this one is going to. He’s going to settle down and wake up every mornin’ to a grumpy Southerner who can’t function without three cups of coffee. He’s going to play house with a little girl who calls him ‘magic man’ and he’s going to get used to dancing in his lounge to mopey love songs,” Leonard said. Jim swallowed.

“It’s only the second date,” he said weakly. Leonard smiled and his thumb traced over Jim’s jaw. He realised, with sudden clarity, what the issue was. Jim had been dancing around the issue, had brought it up in round about ways, had dodged the question. But he could answer him with surety.

“I love you, darlin’. I think that means more than the number of dates we’ve been on,” he said. Jim smiled and leaned forward, claiming his mouth again.

* * *

Jim woke up and stretched. His hand bumped into something warm and solid and he turned onto his side. Bones slept on beside him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt but his boxers were still on. It had been interesting to explore his chest the night before and test the theory that Bones really  _wasn’t_ ticklish.

Jim resisted the urge to reach out and touch him again.

They hadn’t had sex. Jim had kept all touching above the waist and in some ways he felt better for it. Sexually frustrated, but for the first time he didn’t have a nagging sense of guilt weighing in his gut. There was a time and a place, and both he and Bones had so much emotional bullshit to work through, it was better to save it for when they were both in better places.

He slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs. He started the coffee machine going and began to rifle through his cupboards to find pancake mix. He turned the radio onto community radio, listening to a talk show host talk about random crap while he beat the mixture and poured it into the frying pan.

He jumped when he felt arms slide around his waist. Bones pressed a kiss against his neck and rested his chin on his shoulder. Jim felt something warm spread down his spine.

“How long until the coffee is ready?” Bones asked, his voice sleep gruff. Jim laughed and gestured with a spatula.

“It should be almost done,” he said. Leonard nodded and grabbed a mug from the side, pouring himself a cup and leaning against the counter, sipping it. He was wearing Jim’s bathrobe, his hair sleep mussed and a line of his face from where the pillow case had creased when he’d slept on it.

Jim thought of his mother. Of all the things he wanted to see still in the world and compared them to seeing this every morning.

He came to the conclusion it wouldn’t be so bad.


End file.
